THE  MASTER. 
OF  APPLEBY 


AN  C.I    • 


POL 


\ 


Tie  Master  of 


TRe  Master  of 


A  Novel  Tale  Concerning  Itself  in  Part  With 
the  Great  Struggle  in  the  Two  Carolinas ;  but 
Chiefly  With  the  Adventures  Therein  of  Two 
Gentlemen  Who  Loved  One  and  the  Same  Lady 


"By  Francis  Lynde 


Illustrations  by 
T.  de  Thulstrup 


Indianapolis 

The  Bowen-Merrill  Company 
Publishers 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    I  WHET  MY  FATHER'S  SWORD  1 

II    KNITS  UP  SOME  BROKEN  ENDS  15 

III  MY  ENEMY  SCORES  FIRST  25 

IV  MAY  BE  PASSED  OVER  LIGHTLY  36 
V    I  LOST  WHAT  I  HAD  NEVER  GAINED  47 

VI    RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND  60 

VII    MY  LADY  HATH  NO  PART  75 

VIII    I  TASTE  THE  QUALITY  OF  MERCY  88 

IX    A  GOLDEN  KEY  UNLOCKED  A  DOOR  98 

X    A  FORLORN  HOPE  CAME  TO  GRIEF  107 

XI    A  LIE  WAS  MADE  THE  VERY  TRUTH  114 

XII    THE  NEWS  CAME  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS  129 

XIII  A  PILGRIMAGE  BEGINS  141 

XIV  THE  BARONET  PLAYED  ROUGE-ET-NOIR  150 
XV    A  HATCHET  SINGS  A  MAN  TO  SLEEP  164 

XVI    JENNIFER  THREW  A  MAIN  WITH  DEATH  171 

XVII    LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP  188 

XVIII    WE  HEAR  NEWS  FROM  THE  SOUTH  194 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX  A  STUMBLING  HORSE  BROUGHT  TIDINGS  207 

XX  WE  STRIVE  AS  MEN  TO  RUN  A  RACE  217 

XXI  WE  KEPT  LENTEN  VIGILS  IN  TRINITYTIDE  228 

XXII  THE  FATES  GAVE  LARGESS  OF  DESPAIR  235 

XXIII  WE  KEPT  THE  FEAST  OF  BITTER  HERBS  251 

XXIV  WE  FOUND  THE  SUNKEN  VALLEY  259 
XXV  UNCANOOLA  TRAPPED  THE  GREAT  BEAR  289 

XXVI  THE  CHARRED  STICK  FOR  A  GUIDE  279 

XXVII  A  KING'S  TROOPER  BECAME  A  WASTREL  287 

XXVIII  I  SADDLE  THE  BLACK  MARE  296 

XXIX  HAVING  DANCED,  WE  PAY  THE  PIPER  909 

XXX  EPHRAIM  YATES  PRAYED  FOR  HIS  ENEMIES      824 

XXXI  WE  MAKE  A  FORCED  MARCH  836 

XXXII  I  AM  BEDDED  IN  A  GARRET  Kl 

XXXIII  I  HEAR  CHANCEFUL  TIDINGS  Kl 

XXXIV  I  MET  A  GREAT  LORD  AS  MAN  TO  MAN  389 
XXXV  I  FIGHT  THE  DEVIL  WITH  FIRE  «78 

XXXVI  I  RODE  POST  ON  THE  KING'S  BUSINESS  882 

XXXVII  WHAT  BEFELL  AT  KING'S  CREEK  395 

XXXVIII    WE  FIND  THE  GUN-MAKER  412 

XXXIX  THE  THUNDER  OF  THE  CAPTAINS  418 

XL  VAE  VICTIS  432 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XLI    I  PLAYED  THE  HOST  AT  MY  OWN  FIRESIDE  446 

XLII    MY  LORD  HAS  HIS  MARCHING  ORDERS  454 

XLIII    I  DRINK  A  DISH  OF  TEA  460 

XLIV    WE  COME  TO  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END  470 

XLV    WE  FIND  WHAT  WE  NEVER  SOUGHT  480 

XLVI    OUR  PIECE  MISSED  FIRE  AT  HARNDON  ACRES  488 

XLVII    ARMS  AND  THE  MAN  605 

XLVIII    WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBY  617 

XLIX    A  LAWYER  HATH  HIS  FEE  881 

L    RICHARD  COVERDALE'S  DEBT  WAS  PAID  549 

LI    THE  GOOD  CAUSE  GAINS  A  CONVERT  562 

LII    BRINGS  US  TO  THE  JOURNEY'S  END  573 


THE  MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

CHAPTER  I 

IN    WHICH    I    WHET    MY    FATHERS    SWORD 

The  summer  day  was  all  but  spent  when  Richard 
Jennifer,  riding  express,  brought  me  Captain  Fal- 
connet's  challenge. 

'Twas  a  dayfall  to  be  marked  with  a  white  stone, 
even  in  our  Carolina  calendar.  The  sun,  reaching 
down  to  the  mountain-girt  horizon  in  the  west, 
rilled  all  the  upper  air  with  the  glory  of  its  depart- 
ing, and  the  higher  leaf  plumes  of  the  great  maples 
before  my  cabin  door  wrought  lustrous  patterns  in 
gilded  green  upon  a  zenith  background  of  turquoise 
shot  with  crimson,  like  the  figurings  of  some  rich 
old  tapestries  I  had  once  seen  in  my  field-marshal's 
castle  in  the  Mark  of  Moravia. 

Beyond  the  maples  a  brook  tinkled  and  plashed 
over  the  stones  on  its  way  to  the  near-by  Catawba ; 
and  its  peaceful  brawling,  and  the  evensong  of  a 
pair  of  clear-throated  warblers  poised  on  the  top- 
most twigs  of  one  of  the  trees,  should  have  been 

I 


2  THE   MASTER  IOF2APPLEBY 

sweet  music  in  tHe  ears  of  a  returned  exile.  But 
on  that  matchless  bride's-month  evening  of  dainty 
sunset  arabesques  and  brook  and  bird  songs,  I  was 
in  little  humor  for  rejoicing. 

The  road  made  for  the  river  lower  down  and  fol- 
lowed its  windings  up  the  valley ;  but  Jennifer  came 
by  the  Indian  trace  through  the  forest.  I  can  see 
him  now  as  he  rode  beneath  the  maples,  bending 
to  the  saddle  horn  where  the  branches  hung  lowest ; 
a  pretty  figure  of  a  handsome  young  provincial, 
clad  in  fashions  three  years  behind  those  I  had  seen 
in  London  the  winter  last  past.  He  rode  gentleman- 
wise,  in  small-clothes  of  rough  gray  woolen  and 
with  stout  leggings  over  his  hose;  but  he  wore  his 
cocked  hat  atilt  like  a  trooper's,  and  the  sword  on 
his  thigh  was  a  good  service  blade,  and  no  mere  hilt 
and  scabbard  for  show  such  as  our  courtier  maca- 
ronis were  just  then  beginning  to  affect. 

Now  I  had  known  this  handsome  youngster  when 
he  was  but  a  little  lad;  had  taught  him  how  to 
bend  the  Indian  bow  and  loose  the  reed-shaft  arrow 
in  those  happier  days  before  the  tyrant  Governor 
Tryon  turned  hangman,  and  the  battle  of  the  Great 
Alamance  had  left  me  fatherless.  Moreover,  I  had 
drunk  a  cup  of  wine  with  him  at  the  Mecklenburg 
Arms  no  longer  ago  than  yesterweek — this  to  a  re- 
newal of  our  early  friendship.  Hence,  I  must  needs 
be  somewhat  taken  aback  when  he  drew  rein  at 
my  door-stone,  doffed  his  hat  with  a  sweeping  bow 
worthy  a  courtier  of  the  great  Louis,  and  said, 
after  the  best  manner  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison : 


I   WHET   MY   FATHER'S    SWORDi       3 

"I  have  the  honor  of  addressing  Captain  John 
Ireton,  sometime  of  his  Majesty's  Royal  Scots  Blues, 
and  late  of  her  Apostolic  Majesty's  Twenty-ninth' 
Regiment  of  Hussars  ?" 

It  was  but  an  euphuism  of  the  time,  this  formal 
preamble,  declaring  that  his  errand  had  to  do  with 
the  preliminaries  of  a  private  quarrel  between  gen- 
tlemen. Yet  I  could  scarce  restrain  a  smile.  For 
these  upcroppings  of  courtier  etiquette  have  ever 
seemed  to  march  but  mincingly  with  the  free  stride 
of  our  western  backwoods.  None  the  less,  you  are 
to  suppose  that  I  made  shift  to  match  his  bow  in 
some  fashion,  and  to  say :  "At  your  service,  sir." 

Whereupon  he  bowed  again,  clapped  hat  to  head 
and  tendered  me  a  sealed  packet. 

"From  Sir  Francis  Falconnet,  Knight  Bachelor  of 
Beaumaris,  volunteer  captain  in  his  Majesty's  Ger- 
man Legion,"  he  announced,  with  stern  dignity. 

Having  no  second  to  refer  him  to,  I  broke  the  seal 
of  the  cartel  myself.  Since  my  enemy  had  seen  fit 
to  come  thus  far  on  the  way  to  his  end  in  some 
gentlemanly  manner,  it  was  not  for  me  to  find  dif- 
ficulties among  the  formalities.  In  good  truth,  I 
was  overjoyed  to  be  thus  assured  that  he  would 
fight  me  fair;  that  he  would  not  compel  me  to  kill 
him  as  one  kills  a  wild  beast  at  bay.  For  certainly 
I  should  have  killed  him ^ in  any  event:  so  much 
I  had  promised  my  poor  Dick  Coverdale  on  that 
dismal  November  morning  when  he  had  choked  out 
his  life  in  my  arms,  the  victim  first  of  this  man's 
treachery,  and,  at  the  last,  of  his  sword.  So,  as 


4  THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

I  say,  I  was  nothing  loath,  and  yet  I  would  not  seem 
too  eager. 

"I  might  say  that  I  have  no  unsettled  quarrel 
with  Captain  Falconnet,"  I  demurred,  when  I  had 
read  the  challenge.  "He  spoke  slightingly  of  a 
lady,  and  I  did  but — " 

"Your  answer,  Captain  Ireton !"  quoth  my  young- 
ster, curtly.  "I  am  not  empowered  to  give  or  take 
in  the  matter  of  accommodations." 

"Not  so  fast,  if  you  please,"  I  rejoined.  "I  have 
no  wish  to  disappoint  your  principal,  or  his  master, 
the  devil.  Let  it  be  to-morrow  morning  at  sunrise 
in  the  oak  grove  which  was  once  my  father's  wood 
field,  each  man  with  his  own  blade.  And  I  give 
you  fair  warning,  Master  Jennifer ;  I  shall  kill  your 
bullyragging  captain  of  light-horse  as  I  would  a 
vermin  of  any  other  breed." 

At  this  Jennifer  flung  himself  from  his  saddle 
with  a  great  laugh. 

"If  you  can,"  he  qualified.  "But  enough  of  these 
'by  your  leave,  sirs.'  I  am  near  famished,  and  as 
dry  as  King  David's  bottle  in  the  smoke.  Will  you 
give  me  bite  and  sup  before  I  mount  and  ride  again  ? 
'Tis  a  long  gallop  back  to  town  on  an  empty 
stomach,  and  with  a  gullet  as  dry  as  Mr.  Gilbert 
Stair's  wit." 

Here  was  my  fresh-hearted  Dick  Jennifer  back 
again  all  in  a  breath ;  and  I  made  haste  to  shout  for 
Darius,  and  for  Tomas  to  take  his  horse,  and  other- 
wise to  bestir  myself  to  do  the  honors  of  my  poor 
forest  fastness  as  well  as  I  might. 


I   WHET   MY    FATHER'S    SWORD       5 

Luckily,  my  haphazard  larder  was  not  quite 
empty,  and  there  were  presently  a  bit  of  cold  deer's 
meat  and  some  cakes  of  maize  bread  baked  in  the 
ashes  to  set  before  the  guest.  Also  there  was  a 
cup  of  sweet  wine,  home-pressed  from  the  berries 
of  the  Indian  scuppernong,  to  wash  them  down. 
And  afterward,  though  the  evening  was  no  more 
than  mountain-breeze  cool,  we  had  a  handful  of  fire 
on  the  hearth  for  the  cheer  of  it  while  we  smoked 
our  reed-stemmed  pipes. 

It  was  over  the  pipes  that  Jennifer  unburdened 
himself  of  the  gossip  of  the  day  in  Queensborough. 

"Have  you  heard  the  newest?  But  I  know  you 
haven't,  since  the  post-riders  came  only  this  morn- 
ing. The  war  has  shifted  from  the  North  in  good 
earnest  at  last,  and  we  are  like  to  have  a  taste  of 
the  harryings  the  Jerseymen  have  had  since  '76. 
My  Lord  Cornwallis  is  come  as  far  as  Camden,  they 
say ;  and  Colonel  Tarleton  has  crossed  the  Catawba." 

"So?  Then  Mr.  Rutherford  is  like  to  have  his 
work  cut  out  for  him,  I  take  it." 

Jennifer  eyed  me  curiously.  "Grif  Rutherford  is 
a  stout  Indian  fighter ;  no  West  Carolinian  will  gain- 
say that.  But  he  is  never  the  man  to  match  Corn- 
wallis. We'll  have  help  from  the  North." 

"DeKalb?"  I  suggested. 

Again  the  curious  eyeshot.  "Nay,  John  Ireton, 
you  need  not  fear  me,  though  I  am  just  now  this 
redcoat  captain's  next  friend.  You  know  more 
about  the  Baron  de  Kalb's  doings  than  anybody 
else  in  Mecklenburg." 


6  THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"I?    What  should  I  know?" 

"You  know  a  deal — or  else  the  gossips  lie  most 
recklessly." 

"They  do  lie  if  they  connect  me  with  the  Baron 
de  Kalb,  or  with  any  other  of  the  patriot  side. 
What  are  they  saying?" 

"That  you  come  straight  from  the  baron's  camp 
in  Virginia — to  see  what  you  can  see." 

"A  spy,  eh?  'Tis  cut  out  of  whole  cloth,  Dick, 
my  lad.  I've  never  topk  the  oath  on  either  side." 

He  looked  vastly  disappointed.  "But  you  will, 
Jack  ?  Surely,  you  have  not  to  think  twice  in  such  a 
cause  ?" 

"As  between  King  and  Congress,  you  mean  ?  'Tis 
no  quarrel  of  mine." 

"Now  God  save  us,  John  Ireton!"  he  burst  out 
in  a  fine  fervor  of  youthful  enthusiasm  that  made 
him  all  the  handsomer.  "I  had  never  thought  to 
hear  your  father's  son  say  the  like !" 

I  shrugged. 

"And  why  not,  pray  ?  The  king's  minion,  Tryon, 
hanged  my  father  and  gave  his  estate  to  his  minion's 
minion,  Gilbert  Stair.  So,  in  spite  of  your  declara- 
tions and  your  confiscations  and  your  laws  against 
alien  landholders,  I  come  back  to  find  myself  still 
the  son  of  the  outlawed  Roger  Ireton,  and  this  same 
Gilbert  Stair  firmly  lodged  in  my  father's  seat." 

Jennifer  shrugged  in  his  turn. 

"Gilbert  Stair — for  sweet  Madge's  sake  I'm  loath 
to  say  it — Gilbert  Stair  blows  hot  or  cold  as  the 
wind  sets  fair  or  stormy.  And  I  will  say  this  for 


I    WHET    MY   FATHER'S    SWORD       7 

him :  no  other  Tryon  legatee  of  them  all  has  steered 
so  fine  a  course  through  these  last  five  upsetting 
years.  How  he  trims  so  skilfully  no  man  knows. 
A  short  month  since^  he  had  General  Rutherford 
and  Colonel  Sumter  as  guests  at  Appleby  Hun- 
dred ;  now  it  is  Sir  Francis  Falconnet  and  the  Brit- 
ish light-horse  officers  who  are  honored.  But  let  him 
rest:  the  cause  of  independence  is  bigger  than  any 
man,  or  any  man's  private  quarrel,  friend  John; 
and  I  had  hoped — " 

I  laid  a  hand  on  his  knee.  "Spare  yourself,  Dick. 
My  business  in  Queensborough  was  to  learn  how 
best  I  might  reach  Mr.  Rutherford's  rendezvous." 

For  a  moment  he  sat,  pipe  in  air,  staring  at  me 
as  if  to  make  sure  that  he  had  heard  aright.  Then 
he  dipt  my  hand  and  wrung  it,  babbling  out  some 
boyish  brava  that  I  made  haste  to  put  an  end  to. 

"Softly,  my  lad,"  I  said ;  "  'tis  no  great  thing 
the  Congress  will  gain  by  my  adhesion.  But  you, 
Richard ;  how  comes  it  that  I  find  you  taking  your 
ease  at  Jennifer  House  and  hobnobbing  with  his 
Majesty's  officers  when  the  cause  you  love  is  still 
in  such  desperate  straits  ?" 

He  blushed  like  a  girl  at  that,  and  for  a  little 
space  only  puffed  the  harder  at  his  pipe. 

"I  did  go  out  with  the  Minute  Men  in  '76,  if  you 
must  know,  and  smelt  powder  at  Moore's  Creek. 
When  my  time  was  done  I  would  have  'listed  again ; 
but  just  at  that  my  father  died  and  the  Jennifer 
acres  were  like  to  go  to  the  dogs,  lacking  oversight. 
So  I  came  home  and — and — " 


8  THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

He  stopped  in  some  embarrassment,  and  I 
thought  to  help  him  on. 

"Nay,  out  with  it,  Dick.  If  I  am  not  thy  father, 
I  am  near  old  enough  to  stand  in  his  stead.  'Twas 
more  than  husbandry  that  rusted  the  sword  in  its 
scabbard,  I'll  be  bound." 

"You  are  right,  Jack ;  'twas  both  more  and  less," 
he  confessed,  shamefacedly.  "  'Twas  this  same  Mar- 
gery Stair.  As  I  have  said,  her  father  blows  hot  or 
cold  as  the  wind  sets,  but  not  she.  She  is  the  fiercest 
little  Tory  in  the  two  Carolinas,  bar  none.  When  I 
had  got  Jennifer  in  order  and  began  to  talk  of  'list- 
ing again,  she  flew  into  a  pretty  rage  and  stamped 
her  foot  and  all  but  swore  that  Dick  Jennifer  in  buff 
and  blue  should  never  look  upon  her  face  again 
with  her  good  will." 

I  had  a  glimpse  of  Jennifer  the  lover  as  he  spoke, 
and  the  sight  went  somewhat  on  the  way  toward 
casting  out  the  devil  of  sullen  rage  that  had  pos- 
sessed me  since  first  I  had  set  returning  foot  in  this 
my  native  homeland.  'Twas  a  life  lacking  naught  of 
hardness,  but  much  of  human  mellowing,  that  lay 
behind  the  home-coming;  and  my  one  sweet  friend 
in  all  that  barren  life  was  dead.  What  wonder, 
then,  if  I  set  this  frank-faced  Richard  in  the  other 
Richard's  stead,  wishing  him  all  the  happiness  that 
poor  Dick  Coverdale  had  missed  ?  I  needed  little : 
would  need  still  less,  I  thought,  before  the  war 
should  end ;  and  through  this  love-match  my  lost 
estate  would  come  at  length  to  Richard  Jennifer. 


I   WHET   MY   FATHER'S    SWORD       9 

It  was  a  meliorating  thought,  and  while  it  held  I 
could  be  less  revengeful. 

"Dost  love  her,  Dick  ?"  I  asked. 

"Aye,  and  have  ever  since  she  was  in  pinafores, 
and  I  a  hobbledehoy  in  Master  Wytheby's  school." 

"So  long?  I  thought  Mr.  Stair  was  a  later  comer 
in  Mecklenburg." 

"He  came  eight  years  ago,  as  one  of  Tryon's  un- 
derlings. Madge  was  even  then  motherless;  the 
same  little  wilful  prat-a-pace  she  has  ever  been.  I 
would  you  knew  her,  Jack.  'Twould  make  this 
shiftiness  of  mine  seem  less  the  thing  it  is." 

"So  you  have  stayed  at  home  a-courting  while 
others  fought  to  give  you  leisure,"  said  I,  thinking 
to  rally  him.  But  he  took  it  harder  than  I  meant. 

'  'Tis  just  that,  Jack ;  and  I  am  fair  ashamed. 
While  the  fighting  kept  to  the  North  it  did  not  grind 
so  keen;  but  now,  with  the  redcoats  at  our  doors, 
and  the  Tories  sacking  and  burning  in  every  settle- 
ment, 'tis  enough  to  flay  an  honest  man  alive.  God- 
a-mercy,  Jack!  I'll  go;  I've  got  to  go,  or  die  of 
shame !" 

He  sat  silent  after  that,  and  as  there  seemed 
nothing  that  a  curst  old  campaigner  could  say  at 
such  a  pass,  I  bore  him  company. 

By  and  by  he  harked  back  to  the  matter  of  his 
errand,  making  some  apology  for  his  coming  to  me 
as  the  baronet's  second. 

"  'Twas  none  g>f  my  iree  offering,  you  may  be 
sure,"  he  added,  -"But  ij  so  happened  that  Cap- 


io         THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

tain  Falconnet  once  did  me  a  like  turn.  I  had 
chanced  to  run  afoul  of  that  captain  of  Hessian 
pigs,  Lauswoulter,  at  cards,  and  Falconnet  stood 
my  friend — though  now  I  bethink  me,  he  did  seem 
over-anxious  that  one  or  the  other  of  us  should  be 
killed." 

"As  how  ?"  I  inquired. 

"When  Lauswoulter  slipped  and  I  migfit  have 
spitted  him,  and  didn't,  Falconnet  was  for  having 
us  make  the  duel  a  outrance.  But  that's  beside 
the  mark.  Having  served  me  then,  he  makes  the 
point  that  I  shall  serve  him  now." 

"  Tis  a  common  courtesy,  and  you  could  not  well 
refuse.  I  love  you  none  the  less  for  paying  your 
debts ;  even  to  such  a  villain  as  this  volunteer  cap- 
tain." 

"True,  'tis  a  debt,  as  you  say;  but  I  like  little 
enough  the  manner  of  its  paying.  How  came  you 
to  quarrel  with  him,  Jack  ?" 

Now  even  so  blunt  a  soldier  as  I  have  ever  been 
may  have  some  prickings  of  delicacy  where  the 
truth  might  breed  gossip — gossip  about  a  tale  which 
I  had  said  should  die  with  Richard  Coverdale  and 
be  buried  in  his  grave.  So  I  evaded  the  question, 
clumsily  enough,  as  has  ever  been  my  hap  in  fencing 
with  words. 

"The  cause  was  not  wanting.  If  any  ask,  you 
may  say  he  trod  upon  my  foot  in  passing." 

Jennifer  laughed. 

"And  for  that  you  struck  him?  Heavens,  manl 
you  hold  your  life  carelessly.  Do  you  happen  to 


I   WHET    MY    FATHER'S    SWORD      ir 

know  that  this  volunteer  captain  of  light-horse  is 
accounted  the  best  blade  in  the  troop  ?" 

"Who  should  know  that  better  than — "  I  was 
fairly  on  the  brink  of  betraying  the  true  cause  of 
quarrel,  but  drew  rein  in  time.  "I  care  not  if  he 
were  the  best  in  the  army.  I  have  crossed  steel 
before — and  with  a  good  swordsman  now  and  then." 

"Anan?"  said  Jennifer,  as  one  who  makes  no 
doubt.  And  then :  "But  this  toe-pinching  story  is 
but  a  dry  crust  to  offer  a  friend.  You  spoke  of  a 
lady ;  who  was  she  ?  Or  was  that  only  another  way 
of  telling  me  to  mind  my  own  affairs  ?" 

"Oh,  as  to  that;  the  lady  was  real  enough,  and 
Falconnet  did  grossly  asperse  her.  But  I  know  not 
who  she  is,  nor  aught  about  her,  save  that  she  is 
sweet  and  fair  and  good  to  look  upon." 

"Young?" 

"Aye." 

"And  you  say  you  do  not  know  her  ?  Let  me  see 
her  through  your  eyes  and  mayhap  I  can  name  her 
for  you." 

"That  I  can  not.  Mr.  Peale's  best  skill  would  be 
none  too  great  for  the  painting  of  any  picture  that 
should  do  her  justice.  But  she  is  small,  with  the 
airs  and  graces  of  a  lady  of  the  quality;  also,  she 
has  witching  blue  eyes,  and  hair  that  has  the  glint 
of  summer  sunshine  in  it.  Also,  she  sits  a  horse  as 
if  bred  to  the  saddle." 

To  my  amazement,  Jennifer  leaped  up  with  an 
oath  and  flung  his  pipe  into  the  fire. 

"Curse  him !"  he  cried.    "And  he  dared  lay  a  foul 


12         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

tongue  to  her,  you  say?  Tell  me  what  he  said!  I 
have  a  good  right  to  know !" 

I  shook  my  head.  "Nay,  Richard ;  I  may  not  re- 
peat it  to  you,  since  you  are  the  man's  second. 
Truly,  there  is  more  than  this  at  the  back  of  our 
quarrel ;  but  of  itself  it  was  enough,  and  more  than 
enough,  inasmuch  as  the  lady  had  just  done  him  the 
honor  to  recognize  him." 

"His  words — his  very  words,  Jack,  if  you  love 
me!" 

"No;  the  quarrel  is  mine." 

"By  God!  it  is  not  yours!"  he  stormed,  raging 
back  and  forth  before  the  fire.  "What  is  Margery 
Stair  to  you,  Jack  Ireton  ?" 

I  smiled,  beginning  now  to  see  some  peephole  in 
this  millstone  of  mystery. 

"Margery  Stair  ?  She  is  no  more  than  a  name  to 
me,  I  do  assure  you ;  the  daughter  of  the  man  who 
sits  in  my  father's  seat  at  Appleby  Hundred." 

"But  you  are  going  to  fight  for  her !"  he  retorted. 

"Am  I?  I  pledge  you  my  word  I  did  not  know 
it.  But  in  any  case  I  should  fight  Sir  Francis  Fal- 
connet ;  aye,  and  do  my  best  to  kill  him,  too.  Sit  you 
down  and  fill  another  pipe.  Whatever  the  quarrel, 
it  is  mine." 

"Mayhap;  but  it  is  mine,  too,"  he  broke  in,  an- 
grily. "At  all  events,  I'll  see  this  king's  volunteer 
well  hanged  before  I  second  him  in  such  a  cause." 

"That  as  you  choose.  But  you  are  bound  in 
honor,  are  you  not  ?" 


I   WHET   MY   FATHER'S    SWORD     13 

"No."  He  filled  a  fresh  pipe,  lighted  it  with  a 
coal  from  the  hearth,  and  puffed  away  in  silence  for 
a  time.  When  he  spoke  again  it  was  not  as  Falcon- 
net's  next  friend. 

"What  you  have  told  me  puts  a  new  face  on  the 
matter,  Jack.  Sir  Francis  may  find  him  another 
second  where  he  can.  If  he  has  aught  to  say,  I  shall 
tell  him  plain  he  lied  to  me  about  the  quarrel,  as  he 
did.  Now  who  is  there  to  see  fair  play  on  your  side, 
John  Ireton?" 

At  the  question  an  overwhelming  sense  of  my 
own  sorry  case  grappled  me.  Fifteen  years  before, 
I  had  left  Appleby  Hundred  and  my  native 
province  as  well  befriended  as  the  son  of  Roger  Ire- 
ton  was  sure  to  be.  And  now — 

"Dick,  my  lad,  I  am  like  to  fight  alone,"  said  I. 

He  swore  again  at  that;  and  here,  lest  I  should 
draw  my  loyal  Richard  as  he  was  not,  let  me  say, 
once  for  all,  that  his  oaths  were  but  the  outgush- 
ings  of  a  warm  and  impulsive  heart,  rarely  bitter, 
and  never,  as  I  believe,  backed  by  surly  rancor  or 
conscious  irreverence. 

"That  you  shall  not,  Jack,"  he  asserted,  stoutly. 
"I  must  be  a-gallop  now  to  tell  this  king's  captain 
to  look  elsewhere  for  his  next  friend ;  but  to-morrow 
morning  I'll  meet  you  in  the  road  between  this  and 
the  Stair  outlands,  and  we'll  fare  on  together." 

After  this  he  would  brook  no  more  delay;  and 
when  Tomas  had  fetched  his  horse  I  saw  him  mount 
and  ride  away  under  the  low-hanging  maples — 


14         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

watched  him  fairly  out  of  sight  in  the  green  and 
gold  twilight  of  the  great  forest  before  turning  back 
to  my  lonely  hearth  and  its  somber  reminders. 

I  stirred  the  dying  embers,  throwing  on  a  pine 
knot  for  better  light.  Then  I  took  down  my  father's 
sword  from  its  deer-horn  brackets  over  the  chimney- 
piece,  and  set  myself  to  fine  its  edge  and  point  with 
a  bit  of  Scotch  whinstone.  It  was  a  good  blade; 
a  true  old  Andrea  Ferara  got  in  battle  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  by  one  of  the  Nottingham  Iretons. 

I  whetted  it  well  and  carefully.  It  was  not  that  I 
feared  my  enemy's  strength  of  wrist  or  tricks  of 
fence ;  but  fighting  had  been  my  trade,  and  he  is  but 
a  poor  craftsman  who  looks  not  well  to  see  that  his 
tools  are  in  order  against  their  time  of  using. 


II 

WHICH  KNITS  UP  SOME  BROKEN  ENDS 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  '64,  as  I  was 
coming  of  age,  that  my  father  made  ready  to  send 
me  to  England.  Himself  a  conscience  exile  from 
Episcopal  Virginia,  and  a  descendant  of  those  Not- 
tingham Iretons  whose  best-known  son  fought 
stoutly  against  Church  and  King  under  Oliver 
Cromwell,  he  was  yet  willing  to  humor  my  bent 
and  to  use  the  interest  of  my  mother's  family  to 
enter  me  in  the  king's  service. 

Accordingly,  I  took  ship  at  Norfolk  for  "home," 
as  we  called  it  in  those  days ;  and,  after  a  stormy 
passage  and  overmuch  waiting  as  my  cousins'  guest 
in  Lincolnshire,  had  my  pair  of  colors  in  the  Scots 
Blues,  lately  home  from  garrison  duty  in  the 
Canadas. 

Of  the  life  in  barracks  of  a  young  ensign  with 
little  wit  and  less  wisdom,  and  with  more  guineas  in 
his  purse  than  was  good  for  him,  the  less  said  the 
better.  But  of  this  you  may  like  to  know  that,  what 
with  a  good  father's  example,  and  some  small  her- 
itage of  Puritan  decency  come  down  to  me  from  the 

15 


16         THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

sound-hearted  old  Roundhead  stock,  I  won  out  of 
that  devil's  sponging-house,  an  army  in  the  time  of 
peace,  with  somewhat  less  to  my  score  than  others 
had  to  theirs. 

It  was  in  this  barrack  life  that  I  came  to  know 
Richard  Coverdale  and  his  evil  genius,  the  man 
Francis  Falconnet.  Coverdale  was  an  ensign  in  my 
own  regiment,  and  we  were  sworn  friends  from  the 
first.  His  was  a  clean  soul  and  a  brave ;  and  it  was 
to  him  that  I  owed  escape  from  many  of  the  grosser 
chargings  on  that  score  above-named. 

As  for  Falconnet,  he  was  even  then  a  ruffler  and 
a  bully,  though  he  was  not  of  the  army.  He  was  a 
younger  son,  and  at  that  time  there  were  two  lives 
between  him  and  the  baronetcy ;  but  with  a  mother's 
bequeathings  to  purchase  idleness  and  to  gild  his 
iniquities,  he  was  a  fair  example  of  the  jeuncsse 
doree  of  that  England;  a  libertine,  a  gamester,  a 
rakehell ;  brave  as  the  tiger  is  brave,  and  to  the  full 
as  pitiless.  He  was  a  boon  companion  of  the  offi- 
cers' mess ;  and  for  a  time — and  purpose — posed  as 
Coverdale's  friend,  and  mine. 

Since  I  would  not  tell  my  poor  Dick's  story  to 
Richard  Jennifer,  I  may  not  set  it  down  in  cold 
words  here  for  you.  It  was  the  age-old  tragic  com- 
edy of  a  false  friend's  treachery  and  a  woman's 
weakness ;  a  duel,  and  the  wrong  man  slain.  And 
you  may  know  this ;  that  Falconnet's  most  merciful 
role  in  it  was  the  part  he  played  one  chill  November 
morning  when  he  put  Richard  Coverdale  to  the  wall 
and  ran  him  through. 


KNITS   UP   SOME   BROKEN   ENDS    17 

As  you  have  guessed,  I  was  Coverdale's  next 
friend  and  second  in  this  affair,  and  but  for  the 
upsetting  news  of  the  Tryon  tyranny  in  Carolina, — 
news  which  reached  me  on  the  very  day  of  the  meet- 
ing,— I  should  there  and  then  have  called  the  slayer 
to  his  account. 

How  my  father  who,  Presbyterian  and  Ireton 
though  he  was,  had  always  been  of  the  king's  side, 
came  to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  "Regulators,"  as 
they  called  themselves,  I  know  not.  In  my  youth- 
ful memories  of  him  he  figures  as  the  feudal  lord  of 
his  own  domain,  more  absolute  than  many  of  the 
petty  kinglings  I  came  afterward  to  know  in  the 
German  marches.  But  this,  too,  I  remember;  that 
while  his  rule  at  Appleby  Hundred  was  stern  and 
despotic  enough,  he  was  ever  ready  to  lend  a  willing 
ear  to  any  tale  of  oppression.  And  if  what  men  say 
of  the  tyrant  Try  on 's  tax-gatherers  and  law-court 
robbers  be  no  more  than  half  truth,  there  was  need 
for  any  honest  gentleman  to  oppose  them. 

What  that  opposition  came  to  in  '71  is  now  a  tale 
twice  told.  Taken  in  arms  against  the  governor's 
authority,  and  with  an  estate  well  worth  receiving, 
my  father  had  little  justice  and  less  mercy  accorded 
him.  With  many  others  he  was  outlawed;  his  es- 
tates were  declared  forfeit ;  and  a  few  days  later  he, 
with  Benjamin  Merrill  and  four  more  captivated  at 
the  Alamance,  was  given  some  farce  of  a  trial  and 
hanged. 

When  the  news  of  this  came  to  me  you  may  well 
suppose  that  I  had  no  heart  to  continue  in  the  serv- 


i8         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

ice  of  the  king  who  could  sanction  and  reward  such 
villainies  as  these  of  the  butcher  William  Tryon. 
So  I  threw  up  my  lieutenant's  commission  in  the 
Blues,  took  ship  for  the  Continent,  and,  after  wear- 
ing some  half-dozen  different  uniforms  in  Germany, 
was  lucky  enough  to  come  at  length  to  serviceable 
blows  under  my  old  field-marshal  on  the  Turkish 
frontier. 

To  you  of  a  younger  generation,  born  in  the  day 
of  swift  mail-coaches  and  well-kept  post-roads,  tha 
slowness  with  which  our  laggard  news  traveled  in 
that  elder  time  must  needs  seem  past  belief.  It  was 
early  in  the  year  '79  before  I  began  to  hear  more 
than  vague  camp-fire  tales  of  the  struggle  going  on 
between  the  colonies  and  the  mother  country;  and 
from  that  to  setting  foot  once  more  upon  the  soil 
of  my  native  Carolina  was  still  another  year. 

What  I  found  upon  landing  at  New  Berne  and 
saw  while  riding  a  jog-trot  thence  to  the  Catawba 
was  a  province  rent  and  torn  by  partizan  warfare. 
Though  I  came  not  once  upon  the  partizan  s  them- 
selves in  all  that  long  faring,  there  were  trampled 
fields  and  pillaged  houses  enough  to  serve  as  mile- 
stones ;  and  in  my  native  Mecklenburg  a  mine  full 
charged,  with  slow-match  well  alight  for  its  firing. 

Charleston  had  fallen,  and  Colonel  Tarleton's 
outposts  were  already  widespread  on  the  upper  wa- 
ters of  the  Broad  and  the  Catawba.  Thus  it  was 
that  the  first  sight  which  greeted  my  eyes  when  I 
rode  into  Queensborough  was  the  familiar  trappings 


KNITS   UP   SOME   BROKEN   ENDS    19 

of  my  old  service,  and  I  was  made  to  know  that  in 
spite  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  boldly  written  Declaration 
of  Independence,  and  that  earlier  casting  of  the 
king's  yoke  by  the  patriotic  Mecklenburgers  them- 
selves, my  boyhood  home  was  for  the  moment  by 
sword-right  a  part  of  his  Majesty's  province  of 
North  Carolina. 

You  are  not  to  suppose  that  these  things  moved 
me  greatly.  As  yet  I  was  chiefly  concerned  with 
my  own  affair  and  anxious  to  learn  at  first  hands 
the  cost  to  me  of  my  father's  connection  with  the 
Regulators. 

Touching  this,  I  was  not  long  kept  in  ignorance. 
Of  all  the  vast  demesne  of  Appleby  Hundred  there 
was  no  roof  to  shelter  the  son  of  the  outlawed  Roger 
Ireton  save  that  of  this  poor  hunting  lodge  in  the 
mighty  forest  of  the  Catawba,  overlooked,  with  the 
few  runaway  blacks  inhabiting  it,  in  the  intaking 
of  an  estate  so  large  that  I  think  not  even  my  father 
knew  all  the  metes  and  bounds  of  it. 

I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  interview  with  the  law- 
yer in  which  I  was  told  the  inhospitable  truth.  Nor 
shall  I  forget  his  truculent  leer  when  he  hinted  that 
I  had  best  be  gone  out  of  these  parts,  since  it  was 
not  yet  too  late  to  bring  down  the  sentence  of  out- 
lawry from  the  father  to  the  son. 

It  was  well  for  him  that  I  knew  not  at  the  time 
that  he  was  Gilbert  Stair's  factor.  For  I  was  mad 
enough  to  have  throttled  him  where  he  sat  at  his 
writing  table,  matching  his  long  fingers  and  smirk- 


20         THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

ing  at  me  with  his  evil  smile.  But  of  this  man  more 
in  his  time  and  place.  His  name  was  Owen  Pen- 
garvin.  I  would  have  you  remember  it. 

For  a  week  and  a  day  I  lingered  on  at  Queens- 
borough,  for  what  I  knew  not,  save  that  all  the 
world  seemed  suddenly  to  have  grown  stale  and 
profitless,  and  my  life  a  thing  of  small  account. 
One  day  I  would  be  minded  to  go  back  to  my  old 
field-marshal  and  the  keeping  of  the  Turkish  bor- 
der ;  the  next  I  would  ride  over  some  part  of  my 
stolen  heritage  and  swear  a  great  oath  to  bide  till 
I  should  come  to  my  own  again.  And  on  these 
alternating  days  the  storm  of  black  rage  filled  my 
horizons  and  I  became  a  derelict  to  drive  on  any 
rock  or  shoal  in  this  uncharted  sea  of  wrath. 

On  one  of  these  gallops  farthest  afield  I  chanced 
upon  the  bridle-path  that  led  to  our  old  hunting 
lodge  in  the  forest  depths.  Tracing  the  path  to  its 
end  among  the  maples  I  found  the  cabin,  so  lightly 
touched  by  time  that  the  mere  sight  of  it  carried 
me  swiftly  back  to  those  happy  days  when  my  father 
and  I  had  stalked  the  white-tailed  deer  in  the  hill 
glades  beyond,  with  this  log-built  cabin  for  a 
rest-camp.  I  spurred  up  under  the  low-hanging 
trees.  The  door  stood  wide,  and  a  thin  wreath  of 
blue  smoke  curled  upward  from  the  mouth  of  the 
wattled  chimney. 

Then  and  there  I  had  my  first  welcome  home. 
Old  black  Darius — old  when  I  had  last  seen  him  at 
Appleby  Hundred,  and  a  very  grandsire  of  ancients 
now — was  one  of  the  runaways  who  made  the  for- 


KNITS   UP   SOME   BROKEN   ENDS    21 

est  lodge  a  refuge.  He  had  been  my  father's  body- 
servant,  and,  notwithstanding  all  the  years  that  lay 
between,  he  knew  me  at  once. 

Thereupon,  as  you  would  guess,  I  came  immedi- 
ately into  some  small  portion  of  my  kingdom. 
Though  Darius  was  the  patriarch,  the  other  blacks 
were  also  fugitives  from  Appleby  Hundred;  and 
for  the  son  of  Roger  Ireton  there  was  instant  vas- 
salage and  loyal  service.  But  best  of  all,  on  my  first 
evening  before  the  handful  of  fire  in  the  great  fire- 
place, Darius  brought  me  a  package  swathed  in  many 
wrappings  of  Indian-tanned  deerskin.  It  contained 
my  father's  sword,  and,  more  precious  than  this,  a 
message  from  the  dead.  My  father's  farewell  was 
written  upon  a  leaf  torn  from  his  journal,  and  was 
but  a  hasty  scrawl.  I  here  transcribe  it. 

My  Son: 

I  know  not  if  this  will  ever  come  into  your 
hands,  but  it  and  my  sword  shall  be  left  in  trust 
with  the  faithful  Darius.  We  have  made  our  ill- 
timed  cast  for  liberty  and  it  has  failed,  and  to-mor- 
rozv  I  and  five  others  are  to  die  at  the  rope's  end. 
I  bequeath  you  my  sword — 'tis  all  the  tyrant  hath 
left  me  to  devise — and  my  blessing  to  go  with  it 
when  yon,  or  another  Ireton,  shall  once  more  bare 
the  true  old  blade  in  the  sacred  cause  of  liberty. 

Thy  father, 

Roger  Ireton. 

You  may  be  sure  I  conned  these  few  brave  words 


22         THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

till  I  had  them  well  by  heart;  and  later,  when  my 
voice  was  surer  and  my  eyes  less  dim,  I  summoned 
Darius  and  bade  him  tell  me  all  he  knew.  And  it 
was  thus  I  learned  what  I  have  here  set  down  of 
my  father's  end. 

The  next  day,  all  indecision  gone,  I  rode  to 
Queensborough  to  ascertain,  if  so  I  might,  how  best 
to  throw  the  weight  of  the  good  old  Andrea  into 
the  patriot  scale,  meaning  to  push  on  thence  to  Char- 
lotte when  I  had  got  the  bearings  of  the  nearest 
patriot  force. 

'Twas  none  so  easy  to  learn  what  I  needed  to 
know;  though,  now  I  sought  for  information,  a 
curious  thing  or  two  developed.  One  was  that  this 
light-horse  outpost  in  our  hamlet  was  far  in  advance 
of  the  army  of  invasion — so  far  that  it  was  danger- 
somely  isolated,  and  beyond  support.  Another  was 
the  air  of  secrecy  maintained,  and  the  holding  of  the 
troop  in  instant  readiness  for  fight  or  flight. 

Why  this  little  handful  of  British  regulars  should 
stick  and  hang  so  far  from  Lord  Cornwallis's  main, 
which  was  then  well  down  upon  the  Wateree,  I 
could  not  guess.  But  for  the  secrecy  and  vigilance 
there  were  good  reasons  and  sufficient.  The  patriot 
militia  had  been  called  out,  and  was  embodying 
under  General  Rutherford  but  a  few  miles  distant 
near  Charlotte. 

I  had  this  information  in  guarded  whispers  from 
mine  host  of  the  tavern,  and  was  but  a  moment 
free  of  the  tap-room,  when  I  first  saw  Margery 


KNITS   UP    SOME    BROKEN    ENDS    23 

Stair  and  so  drank  of  the  cup  of  trembling  witK 
madness  in  its  lees.  She  was  riding,  unmasked, 
down  the  high  road,  not  on  a  pillion  as  most  women 
rode  in  that  day,  but  upon  her  own  mount  with  a 
black  groom  two  lengths  in  the  rear.  I  can  picture 
her  for  you  no  better  than  I  could  for  Richard  Jenni- 
fer ;  but  this  I  know,  that  even  this  first  sight  of  her 
moved  me  strangely,  though  the  witching  beauty 
of  her  face  and  the  proudness  of  it  were  more  a 
challenge  than  a  beckoning. 

A  blade's  length  at  my  right  where  I  was  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  tavern,  three  redcoat  officers 
lounged  at  ease ;  and  to  one  of  them  my  lady  tossed 
a  nod  of  recognition,  half  laughing,  half  defiant. 
I  turned  quickly  to  look  at  the  favored  one.  He 
stood  with  his  back  to  me ;  a  man  of  about  my  own 
bigness,  heavy-built  and  well-muscled.  He  wore  a 
bob-wig,  as  did  many  of  the  troop  officers,  but  his 
uniform  was  tailor-fine,  and  the  hand  with  which 
he  was  resettling  his  hat  was  be  jeweled — overmuch 
be  jeweled,  to  my  taste. 

Something  half  familiar  in  the  figure  of  him 
made  me  look  again.  In  the  act  he  turned,  and  then 
I  saw  his  face — saw  and  recognized  it  though  nine 
years  lay  between  this  and  my  last  seeing  of  it 
across  the  body  of  Richard  Coverdale. 

"So!"  thought  I.  "My  time  has  come  at  last.". 
And  while  I  was  yet  turning  over  in  my  mind  how 
best  to  bait  him,  the  lady  passed  out  of  earshot,  and 
I  heard  him  say  to  the  two,  his  comrades,  that  foul 


24         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

thing  which  I  would  not  repeat  to  Jennifer ;  a  vile 
boast  with  which  I  may  not  soil  my  page  here  for 
you. 

"Oh,  come,  Sir  Frank !  that's  too  bad !"  cried  the 
younger  of  the  twain ;  and  then  I  took  two  strides 
to  front  him  fairly. 

"Sir  Francis  Falconnet,  you  are  a  foul-lipped 
blackguard!"  I  said;  and,  lest  that  should  not  be 
enough,  I  smote  him  in  the  face  so  that  he  fell  like 
an  ox  in  the  shambles. 


Ill 

IN  WHICH  MY  ENEMY  SCORES  FIRST 

True  to  his  promise,  Richard  Jennifer  met  me  in 
the  cool  gray  birthlight  of  the  new  day  at  a  turn  in 
the  river  road  not  above  a  mile  or  two  from  the 
rendezvous,  and  thence  we  jogged  on  together. 

After  the  greetings,  which,  as  you  may  like  to 
know,  were  grateful  enough  on  my  part,  I  would 
fain  inquire  how  the  baronet  had  taken  his  second's 
defection ;  but  of  this  Jennifer  would  say  little. 
He  had  broken  with  his  principal,  whether  in  anger 
or  not  I  could  only  guess;  and  one  of  Falconnet's 
brother  officers,  that  younger  of  the  twain  who  had 
cried  shame  at  the  baronet's  vile  boast,  was  to  serve 
in  his  stead. 

It  was  such  a  daydawn  as  I  have  sometimes  seen 
in  the  Carpathians ;  cool  and  clear,  but  with  that 
sweet  dewy  wetness  in  the  lower  air  which  washes 
the  over-night  cobwebs  from  the  brain,  and  is  both 
meat  and  drink  to  one  who  breathes  it.  On  the  left 
the  road  was  overhung  by  the  bordering  forest,  and 
where  the  branches  drooped  lowest  we  brushed  the 
fragrance  from  the  wild-grape  bloom  in  passing. 
25 


26         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

On  the  right  the  river,  late  in  flood,  eddied  softly; 
and  sounds  other  than  the  murmuring  of  the  waters, 
the  matin  songs  of  the  birds,  and  the  dust-muffled 
hoof-beats  of  our  horses  there  were  none.  Peace, 
deep  and  abiding,  was  the  key-note  of  nature's 
morning  hymn ;  and  in  all  this  sylvan  byway  there 
was  naught  remindful  of  the  fierce  internecine  war- 
fare aflame  in  all  the  countryside.  Some  rough 
forging  of  this  thought  I  hammered  out  for  Jennifer 
as  we  rode  along,  and  his  laugh  was  not  devoid  of 
bitterness. 

"Old  Mother  Nature  ruffles  her  feathers  little 
enough  for  any  teapot  tempest  of  ours,"  he  said. 
"But  speaking  of  the  cruelties,  we  provincial  sav- 
ages, as  my  Lord  Cornwallis  calls  us,  have  no  mo- 
nopoly. The  post-riders  from  the  south  bring  blood- 
curdling stories  of  Colonel  Tarleton's  doings.  'Tis 
said  he  overtook  some  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  reinforce- 
ments come  too  late.  They  gave  battle  but  faint- 
heartedly, being  all  unready  for  an  enemy,  and  pres- 
ently threw  down  their  arms  and  begged  for  quar- 
ter— begged,  and  were  cut  down  as  they  stood." 

"Faugh !"  said  I.  "That  is  but  hangman's  work. 
And  yet  in  London  I  heard  that  this  same  Colonel 
Tarleton  was  with  Lord  Howe  in  Philadelphia  and 
was  made  much  of  by  the  ladies." 

Jennifer's  laugh  was  neither  mirthful  nor 
pleasant. 

'  'Tis  a  weakness  of  the  sex,"  he  scoffed.  "The 
women  have  a  fondness  for  a  man  with  a  dash  of 
the  brute  in  him." 


MY   ENEMY    SCORES    FIRST          27 

I  laughed  also,  but  without  bitterness. 

"You  say  it  feelingly.  Do  you  speak  by  the 
book?" 

"Aye,  that  I  do.  Now  here  is  my  lady  Madge 
preaching  peace  and  all  manner  of  patience  to  me 
in  one  breath,  and  upholding  in  the  next  this  baro- 
net captain  who,  though  I  would  have  seconded 
him  at  a  pinch,  is  but  a  pattern  of  his  brutal  colonel." 

I  put  two  and  two  together. 

"So  Falconnet  is  on  terms  at  Appleby  Hundred, 
is  he?" 

"Oh,  surely.  Gilbert  Stair  keeps  open  house  for 
any  and  all  of  the  winning  hand,  as  I  told  you." 

The  thought  of  this  unspoiled  young  maiden 
having  aught  to  do  with  such  a  thrice-accursed 
despoiler  of  women  made  my  blood  boil  afresh; 
and  in  the  heat  of  it  I  let  my  secret  slip,  or  rather 
some  small  part  of  it. 

"Sir  Francis  had  ever  a  sure  hand  with  the 
women,"  I  said;  and  then  I  could  have  bitten  my 
masterless  tongue. 

"So?"  queried  Jennifer.  "Then  this  is  not  your 
first  knowing  of  him  ?" 

"No."    So  much  I  said  and  no  more. 

We  rode  on  in  silence  for  a  little  space,  and  then 
my  youthling  must  needs  break  out  again  in  fresh 
beseechings. 

"Tell  me  what  you  know  of  him,  and  what  it  was 
he  said  of  Madge,"  he  entreated.  "You  can't  deny 
me  now,  Jack." 


28         THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

"I  can  and  shall.  It  matters  not  to  you  or  to  any 
what  he  is  or  has  been." 

"Why?" 

"Because,  as  God  gives  me  strength  and  skill, 
I  shall  presently  run  him  through,  and  so  his  ac- 
count will  be  squared  once  for  all  with  all  men — 
and  all  women,  as  well." 

"God  speed  you,"  quoth  my  loyal  ally.  "I  knew 
not  your  quarrel  with  him  was  so  bitter." 

"It  is  to  the  death." 

"So  it  seems.  In  that  case,  if  by  any  accident 
he—" 

I  divined  what  he  would  say  and  broke  in  upon 
him. 

"Nay,  Dick;  if  he  thrusts  me  out,  you  must  not 
take  up  my  quarrel.  I  know  not  where  you  learned 
to  twirl  the  steel,  or  how,  but  you  may  be  sure  he 
would  spit  you  like  a  trussed  fowl  in  the  first  bout. 
I  have  seen  him  kill  a  man  who  was  reckoned  the 
best  short  sword  in  my  old  regiment  of  the  Blues." 

"Content  yourself,"  said  my  young  Hotspur, 
grandly.  "If  you  spare  him  he  shall  answer  to  me 
for  that  thing  he  said  of  Madge  Stair ;  this  though 
I  know  not  what  it  was  he  said." 

I  smiled  at  his  fuming  ardor,  and  glancing  at 
the  pair  of  pistols  hanging  from  his  saddle-bow, 
asked  if  he  could  shoot. 

"Indifferent  well." 

"Then  make  him  challenge  you  and  choose  your 
own  weapon.  Tis  your  only  hope,  and  poor  enough 


29 

at  that,  I  fear.  I  have  heard  he  can  clip  a  guinea 
at  ten  paces." 

From  that  we  fell  silent  again,  being  but  a  little 
way  from  the  rendezvous,  and  so  continued  until, 
at  a  sudden  turn  in  the  road,  we  came  in  sight  of  a 
rude  barricade  of  felled  trees  barring  the  way. 
Jennifer  saw  it  first  and  pulled  up  short,  loosing 
his  pistols  in  their  cases  as  he  drew  rein. 

'  'Ware  the  wood !"  he  said  sharply,  and  none  too 
soon,  for  even  as  he  spoke  the  glade  at  our  left  filled 
as  by  magic  with  a  motley  troop  deploying  into  the 
road  as  to  surround  us. 

"Now  who  are  these?"  I  asked;  "friends  or 
foes?" 

"Foes  who  will  hang  you  in  your  own  halter 
strap;  Jan  Howart's  Tories — the  same  that  burned 
the  Westcotts  in  their  cabin  a  fortnight  since.  Will 
your  horse  take  that  barricade,  think  you  ?" 

"Aye, — standing,  if  need  be." 

"Then  at  them,  in  God's  name.     Charge !" 

It  needed  but  the  word  and  we  were  in  the  thick 
of  it.  I  remembered  my  old  field-marshal's  maxim, 
yon  Fein-den  uiuringt,  ist  die  Zcit  su  zcrschmcttcrn; 
and  truly,  being  so  plentifully  outnumbered,  we  did 
strike  both  first  and  hard. 

A  line  of  the  ragged  horsemen  strung  itself  awk- 
wardly across  the  road  to  guard  the  flimsy  barricade, 
and  at  this  we  charged,  stirrup  to  stirrup.  In  the 
dash  there  was  a  scattering  volley  from  the  wood, 
answered  instantly  by  the  bellowings  of  Jennifer's 
great  pistols ;  and  then  we  came  to  the  steel. 


30         THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

It  was  my  first  fleshing  of  the  good  old  Andrea, 
and  a  better  balanced  blade  I  had  never  swung  in 
hand-to-hand  mellay.  As  we  closed  with  the  half- 
dozen  defenders  of  the  barrier,  Jennifer  reined  aside 
to  give  me  room  to  play  to  right  and  left,  and  in  the 
midst  of  it  went  nigh  to  death  because  he  held  his 
hand  to  watch  a  cut  and  double  thrust  of  mine. 

"Over  with  you!"  I  shouted,  pricking  the  man 
who  would  have  mowed  him  down  with  a  great 
scythe  handled  as  a  sword. 

Our  horses  took  the  barrier  in  a  flying  leap, 
straining  themselves  for  the  race  beyond.  When  we 
had  pulled  them  down  to  a  foot  pace  we  were  safely 
out  of  rifle  shot  and  there  was  space  to  count  the 
cost. 

There  was  no  cost  worth  counting.  A  saddle 
horn  bullet-shattered  for  me,  and  the  back  of  Jenni- 
fer's sword  hand  scored  lightly  across  by  another 
of  the  random  missiles  summed  up  our  woundings. 
Dick  whipped  out  his  kerchief  to  twist  about  the 
scored  hand,  while  I  glanced  back  to  see  if  any 
Tory  cared  to  follow. 

"Lord,  Jack!  I  owe  you  one  to  keep  and  one 
to  pay  back,"  quoth  my  youngster,  warmly.  "I 
never  saw  a  swordsman  till  this  day !" 

"Mere  tricks,  Dick,  my  lad;  I  have  had  fifteen 
years  in  which  to  learn  them.  And  these  were  but 
country  yokels  armed  with  farming  tools.  The  two 
with  swords  had  little  wit  to  use  them." 

"Oh,  come!"  said  he.  "I  know  a  pretty  bit  of 
sword  play  when  I  see  it.  If  we  come  whole  out  of 


MY   ENEMY    SCORES    FIRST          31 

this  adventure  with  the  baronet  you  shall  teach  me 
some  of  these  'mere  tricks'  of  yours." 

I  promised,  glancing  back  toward  the  dust-veiled 
barrier  in  the  distance. 

"Dick,  you  passed  this  way  an  hour  ago ;  was  that 
breastwork  in  the  road  then  ?" 

"Not  a  stick  of  it." 

"Then  we  may  dare  say  our  volunteer  captain 
fights  unwillingly." 

"How  so?"  he  demanded,  being  much  too 
straightforward  himself  to  suspect  duplicity  in  oth- 
ers. 

"  Tis  plain  enough.  This  was  a  trap,  meant  to 
stop  or  delay  us,  and  I'll  wager  high  it  was  the 
baronet  who  set  and  baited  it.  It  would  please 
him  well  to  be  able  to  say  what  our  failure  to  come 
would  give  him  warrant  for.  Let  us  gallop  a  bit, 
lest  we  be  late  and  so  play  into  his  hand." 

Jennifer  smiled  grimly  and  gave  his  horse  the 
rein.  "I  think  you'd  charge  the  Fall  of  Man  to  him 
if  that  would  give  you  better  leave  to  kill  him.  I'd 
hate  to  own  you  for  my  enemy,  John  Ireton." 

For  all  our  swift  speeding  we  were  yet  a  little 
late  at  the  rendezvous  under  the  tall  oaks.  When  we 
came  on  the  ground  the  baronet  was  walking  up 
and  down  arm  in  arm  with  his  second,  a  broad- 
shouldered  young  Briton,  fair  of  skin  and  ruddy  of 
face. 

If  Falconnet  had  set  the  Tory  trap  for  us  he 
veiled  his  disappointment  at  its  failure.  His  face, 
dark  and  inscrutable  as  it  always  was,  was  made 


32         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

more  sinister  by  the  plasters  knitting  up  his  broken 
cheek,  but  I  was  right  glad  to  make  sure  that  my 
blow  had  spared  his  eyes.  Richly  as  he  deserved 
his  fate,  I  thought  it  would  be  ill  to  think  on  after- 
ward that  I  had  had  him  at  a  disadvantage  of  my 
own  making. 

There  was  little  time  wasted  in  the  prelimina- 
ries. When  Falconnet  saw  us  he  dropped  his  sec- 
ond's arm  and  began  to  make  ready.  I  gave  my 
sword  to  Jennifer,  and  the  seconds  went  apart  to- 
gether. There  was  some  measuring  and  balancing 
of  weapons,  and  then  Richard  came  back. 

"The  baronet's  sword  is  a  good  inch  longer  than 
yours  in  the  blade,  and  is  somewhat  heavier.  Tybee 
has  brought  a  pair  of  French  short-swords  which  he 
offers.  Will  you  change  your  terms  ?" 

"No ;  I  am  content  to  fight  with  my  own  weapon." 

Jennifer  nodded.  "So  I  told  him."  And  then: 
"There  was  no  surgeon  to  be  had  in  town,  Dr.  Ca- 
rew  having  gone  with  the  Minute  Men  to  join  Mr. 
Rutherford.  Tybee  says  'tis  scarce  in  accordance 
with  the  later  rulings  to  fight  without  one." 

"To  the  devil  with  their  hairsplittings!"  said  I. 
"Let  us  have  done  with  them  and  be  at  it." 

Falconnet  was  removing  his  coat,  and  I  stripped 
mine.  The  seconds  chose  the  ground  where  the 
turf  was  short  and  firm,  and  yet  yielding  enough  to 
give  good  footing.  We  faced  each  other,  my  antag- 
onist baring  an  arm  which,  despite  the  bejeweled 
hand,  was  to  the  full  as  big-muscled  as  my  own. 
My  glance  went  from  his  weapon,  a  rather  heavy 


MY   ENEMY   SCORES    FIRST          33 

German  blade,  straight  and  slender-pointed,  to  his 
face.  He  was  smiling  as  one  who  strives  to  make 
the  outer  man  a  mask  to  cover  all  emotion,  and  the 
plasters  on  his  cheek  drew  the  smile  into  a  grimace 
that  was  all  but  devilish. 

The  seconds  fell  back,  but  when  Jennifer  would 
have  given  the  signal  I  stopped  him. 

"One  moment,  if  you  please.  Sir  Francis  Fal- 
connet,  you  know  me  ?" 

The  thin-lidded  eyes  were  veiled  for  an  instant, 
and  then  he  lied  smoothly. 

"Your  pardon,  Captain  Ireton;  I  have  not  that 
honor." 

"  Tis  a  small  matter,  but  you  do  lie  this  morning 
as  basely  as  you  lied  to  Richard  Coverdale  nine  years 
agone,"  said  I;  and  then  I  signed  Jennifer  to  give 
the  word. 

"Attention,  gentlemen !    On  guard !" 

My  enemy's  sword  leaped  to  meet  mine,  and  at 
the  same  instant  I  heard  another  click  of  steel  be- 
tokening that  the  seconds  had  fallen  to  in  a  bit  of  by- 
play between  themselves,  as  was  then  the  fashion. 
After  that  I  heard  nothing  for  a  time  save  the  sibi- 
lant whisperings  of  the  Ferara  and  the  German 
long-sword,  and  saw  nothing  save  the  fierce  eyes 
glaring  at  me  out  of  the  midst  of  the  plaster-marred 
smile. 

Recreant  though  he  was,  I  must  do  my  adver- 
sary the  justice  to  say  that  he  was  a  skilful  master 
of  fence,  agile  as  a  French  dancer,  and  witKal  well- 
breathed  and  persevering.  Twice,  nay,  thrice,  be- 


34         THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

fore  I  found  my  advantage  he  had  pricked  me 
lightly  with  that  extra  inch  of  slender  point.  But 
when  I  had  fairly  felt  his  wrist  I  knew  that  his 
heavier  weapon  would  shortly  prove  his  undoing; 
knew  that  the  quick  parry  and  lightning-like  thrust 
would  presently  lag  a  little,  and  then  I  should  have 
him. 

Something  of  this  prophecy  of  triumph  he  must 
have  read  in  my  eyes,  for  on  the  instant  he  was 
up  and  at  me  like  a  madman,  and  I  had  my  work 
well  cut  out  to  hold  him  at  the  blade's  length.  I 
was  so  holding  him ;  was,  in  my  turn,  beginning  to 
press  him  slowly,  when  there  came  a  drumming  of 
hoofbeats  on  the  soft  turf,  and  then  a  woman's 
cry. 

I  looked  aside,  and  to  my  dying  day  I  shall  swear 
that  my  antagonist  did  likewise.  What  I  saw  was 
Mistress  Margery  Stair  riding  down  upon  us  at  a 
hand-gallop,  and  I  lowered  my  point,  as  any  gen- 
tleman would. 

In  the  very  act — 'twas  while  Jennifer  was  clutch- 
ing at  her  bridle  rein  to  stay  her  from  riding  fair 
between  us — I  felt  the  hot-wire  prick  of  the  steel 
in  my  shoulder  and  knew  that  my  enemy  had  run 
me  through  as  I  stood. 

Of  what  befell  afterward  I  have  but  dim  memo- 
ries. There  were  more  hoof-tramplings,  and  then  I 
felt  the  dewy  turf  under  my  hands  and  soft  fingers 
tremblingly  busy  at  my  neckerchief.  Then  I  saw 
swimmingly,  as  through  a  veil  of  mist,  a  woman's 
face  just  above  my  own,  and  it  was  full  of  horror; 


MY   ENEMY    SCORES    FIRST          35 

and  I  heard  my  enemy  say :  "  'Twas  most  unfortu- 
nate and  I  do  heartily  regret  it,  Mr.  Jennifer.  I 
saw  not  why  he  had  lowered  his  point.  Can  I  say 
more  ?" 

How  Richard  Jennifer  made  answer  to  this  lie  I 
know  not ;  nor  do  I  know  aught  else,  save  by  hear- 
say, of  any  further  happening  in  that  grassy  glade 
beneath  my  father's  oaks.  For  the  big  German 
blade  was  a  shrewd  blood-letter,  and  I  fell  asleep 
what  time  my  lady  was  trying  to  stanch  with  her 
kerchief  the  ebbing  tide  of  life. 


IV 

WHICH  MAY  BE  PASSED  OVER  LIGHTLY 

When  I  came  back  to  some  clearer  sensing  of 
things,  I  found  myself  abed  in  a  room  which  was 
strange  and  yet  strangely  familiar.  Barring  a  great 
oaken  clothes-press  in  one  corner,  a  raree-show  of 
curious  china  on  the  shelves  where  the  books  should 
have  been,  and  the  face  of  an  armored  soldier  star- 
ing down  at  me  from  its  frame  over  the  chimney 
piece,  where  I  should  have  looked  to  see  my 
mother's  portrait,  the  room  was  a  counterpart  of  my 
old  bedchamber  at  Appleby  Hundred.  There  was 
even  a  faint  odor  of  lavender  in  the  bed-linen ;  and 
the  sense  of  smell,  which  hath  ever  a  better  memory 
than  any  other,  carried  me  swiftly  back  to  my  boy- 
hood, and  to  the  remembrance  that  my  mother  had 
always  kept  a  spray  or  two  of  that  sweet  herb  in 
her  linen  closet. 

At  the  bedside  there  was  a  claw-footed  table, 
which  also  had  the  look  of  an  old  friend ;  and  on  it 
a  dainty  porringer,  filled  with  cuttings  of  fragrant 
sweetbriar.  This  was  some  womanly  conceit,  I  said 
to  myself ;  and  then  I  laughed,  though  the  laugh  set 

36 


a  pair  of  wolf's  jaws  at  work  on  my  shoulder.  For 
you  must  know  that  I  had  lived  the  full  half  of 
King  David's  span  of  three-score  and  ten  years,  and 
more,  and  what  womanly  softness  had  fallen  to  my 
lot  had  been  well  got  and  paid  for. 

I  closed  my  eyes  the  better  to  remember  what  had 
befallen,  and  when  I  opened  them  again  was  fain  to 
wonder  if  the  moment  of  back-reaching  stood  not 
for  some  longer  time.  In  the  deep  bay  of  the  win- 
dow was  a  great  chair  of  Indian  wickerwork,  and  I 
could  have  sworn  it  had  but  now  been  empty.  Yet 
when  I  looked  again  a  woman  sat  in  it. 

Now  of  a  truth  I  had  seen  this  woman's  face  but 
twice ;  and  once  it  wore  a  smile  of  teasing  mockery 
and  once  was  full  of  terror ;  but  I  thought  I  should 
live  long  and  suffer  much  before  the  winsome  chal- 
lenging beauty  of  it  would  let  me  be  as  I  had  been 
before  I  had  looked  upon  it. 

She  knew  not  that  I  was  awake  and  slaking  the 
thirst  of  my  eyes  upon  the  sweetness  of  her,  and 
so  I  saw  her  then  as  few  ever  saw  her,  I  think,  with 
the  womanly  barriers  of  defense  all  down.  'Tis  a 
hard  test,  and  one  that  makes  a  blank  at  rest  of 
many  a  face  beautiful  enough  in  action ;  but  though 
this  lady's  face  was  to  the  full  as  changeful  as  any 
April  sky,  it  was  never  less  than  triumphantly  beau- 
tiful. 

I  had  said  her  eyes  were  blue,  but  now  they  were 
deep  wells  reflecting  the  soft  gray  of  the  clouded 
sky  beyond  the  window-panes.  I  had  made  sure 
that  her  lips  lent  themselves  most  readily  to  mocking 


38 

smiles  scornful  of  any  wit  less  trenchant  than  her 
own ;  but  now  these  mocking  lips  were  pensive,  and 
with  the  rounded  cheek  and  chin  gave  her  the  look 
of  a  sweet  child  wanting  to  be  kissed.  I  had  said 
her  hair  was  bright  in  the  sunlight,  and  so,  indeed, 
it  was ;  but  lacking  the  sun  it  still  held  the  dull  luster 
of  burnished  copper  in  its  masses,  and  her  simple, 
care-free  dressing  of  it  at  a  time  when  les  grand es 
dames  were  frizzing  and  powdering  and  adding  art 
to  art  to  mar  the  woman's  crown  of  glory,  gave  her 
yet  more  the  look  of  a  child. 

Lastly,  I  had  called  her  small,  and  certainly  her 
figure  was  girlish  beside  those  grenadier  dames  of 
Maria  Theresa's  court  to  whom  my  old  field-marshal 
had  once  presented  me.  But  when  she  rose  and 
went  to  stand  in  the  window-bay  I  marked  this; 
that  not  any  duchess  or  margravine  of  them  all  had 
a  more  queenly  bearing,  or,  with  all  their  stays  and 
furbelows,  could  match  her  supple  grace  and  lissom 
figure. 

What  with  the  blood-lettings  and  the  wound 
fever,  coupled  with  the  subtle  witchery  of  her  pres- 
ence thus  in  my  sick  room,  it  is  little  to  be  wondered 
at  that  a  curious  madness  came  over  me,  or  that  I 
forgot  for  the  moment  the  loyalty  due  to  my  dear 
lad.  Could  I  have  stood  before  her  and,  reading  but 
half  consent  in  the  deep-welled  eyes,  have  dipt  her 
in  my  arms  and  laid  my  lips  to  hers,  I  would  have 
run  to  pay  the  price,  in  earth  or  heaven  or  hell,  I 
thought,  deeming  the  fierce  joy  of  it  well  worth  any 
penalty. 


MAY   BE   PASSED   OVER   LIGHTLY,  39 

At  this  I  should  have  stirred,  I  suppose,  for  she 
came  quickly  and  stood  beside  me. 

"You  have  slept  long  and  well,  Captain  Ireton," 
she  said ;  and  in  all  the  thrilling  joy  of  her  nearer 
presence  I  found  space  to  mark  that  her  voice  had  in 
it  that  sweet  quality  of  sympathy  which  is  all 
womanly.  "They  say  I  am  good  only  to  fetch  and 
carry — may  I  fetch  you  anything?" 

I  fear  the  madness  of  the  moment  must  still  have 
been  upon  me,  for  I  said :  "Since  you  are  here 
yourself,  dear  lady,  I  need  naught  else." 

At  a  flash  I  had  my  whipping  in  a  low  dipped 
curtsy  and  a  mocking  smile  like  that  slie  had  flung 
to  Falconnet. 

"Merci!  mon  Capitaine,"  she  said;  and  for  all  my 
wincings  under  the  sharp  lash  of  her  sarcasm  I  was 
moved  to  wonder  how  she  had  the  French  of  it. 
And  then  she  added:  "Is  it  the  custom  for  Her 
Apostolic  Majesty's  officers  to  come  out  of  a  death- 
swound  only  to  pay  pretty  compliments?" 

"  'Twas  no  compliment,"  I  denied ;  and,  indeed,  I 
meant  it.  Then  I  asked  where  I  was,  and  to  whom 
indebted,  though  I  had  long  since  guessed  the  an- 
swer to  both  questions. 

In  a  trice  the  mocking  mood  was  gone  and  sKe 
became  my  lady  hostess,  steeped  to  her  finger-tips 
in  gracious  dignity. 

"You  are  at  Appleby  Hundred,  sir.  'Twas  here 
they  fetched  you  because  there  was  no  other  house 
so  near,  and  you  were  sorely  hurt.  Richard  Jenni- 
fer and  my  black  boy  made  a  litter  of  the  saddle- 


40         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

cloths,  and  with  Sir  Francis  and  Mr.  Tybee  to 
help—" 

I  think  she  must  have  seen  that  this  thrust  was 
sharper  than  that  of  the  German  long-sword,  for 
she  stopped  in  mid-sentence  and  looked  away  from 
me.  And,  surely,  I  thought  it  was  the  very  irony  of 
fate  that  I  should  thus  be  brought  half  dead  to  the 
house  that  was  my  father's,  with  my  enemy  and  his 
second  to  share  the  burden  of  me. 

"But  your  father?"  I  queried,  when  the  silence 
had  grown  over-long. 

"My  father  is  away  at  Queensborough,  so  you 
must  e'en  trust  yourself  to  my  tender  mercies,  Cap- 
tain Ireton.  Are  you  strong  enough  to  have  your 
wound  dressed  ?" 

She  asked,  but  waited  for  no  answer  of  mine. 
Summoning  a  black  boy  to  hold  the  basin  of  water, 
she  fell  to  upon  the  wound-dressing  with  as  little 
ado  as  if  she  had  been  a  surgeon's  apprentice  on  a 
battle-field,  and  I  a  bloodless  ancient  too  old  to 
thrill  at  the  touch  of  a  woman's  hands. 

"Dear  heart !  'tis  a  monstrous  ugly  hurt,"  she  de- 
clared, replacing  the  wrappings  with  deft  fingers. 
"How  came  you  to  go  about  picking  a  quarrel  with 
Sir  Francis  ?" 

"  'Twas  not  of  my  seeking,"  I  returned,  and  then 
I  could  have  cursed  my  foolish  tongue. 

"Is  that  generous,  Captain  Ireton?  We  hear 
something  of  the  talk  of  the  town,  and  that  says — " 

"That  says  I  struck  him  without  sufficient  cause. 
I  am  content  to  let  it  stand  so." 


MAY  BE  PASSED  OVER  LIGHTLY  '41 

"Nay,  but  you  should  not  be  content.  Is  there 
not  strife  enough  in  this  unhappy  land  without  these 
causeless  bickerings  ?" 

Here  was  my  lady  turned  preacher  all  in  a  breath 
and  I  with  no  words  to  answer  her.  But  I  could 
not  let  it  go  thus. 

"I  knew  Sir  Francis  Falconnet  in  England,"  said 
I,  hoping  by  this  to  turn  her  safe  aside. 

"Ah ;  then  there  was  a  cause.     Tell  it  me." 

"Nay,  that  I  may  not." 

Though  she  was  hurting  me  sorely  in  the  wound- 
dressing,  and  knew  it,  she  laughed. 

"  'Tis  most  ungallant  to  deny  a  lady,  sir.  But  I 
shall  know  without  the  telling;  'twas  about  a 
woman.  Tell  me,  Captain  Ireton,  is  she  fair?" 

Seeing  that  her  mood  had  changed  again,  I  tried 
to  give  her  quip  for  jest;  but  what  with  tKe  pain 
of  the  sword-thrust  and  the  sweet  agony  of  her 
touches  I  could  only  set  my  teeth  against  a  groan. 
She  went  on  drawing  the  bandagings,  little  heedful 
how  she  racked  me,  I  thought ;  and  yet  when  all  was 
done  she  stood  beside  me  all  of  a  tremble,  as  any 
tender-hearted  woman  might. 

"There,"  she  said ;  "  'tis  over  for  a  time,  and  I 
make  no  doubt  you  are  glad  enough.  Now  you 
have  nothing  to  do  save  to  lie  quiet  till  it  heals." 

"And  how  long  will  that  be,  think  you  ?" 

"We  shall  see ;  a  long  time,  I  hope.  You  shall 
be  punished  properly  for  your  hot  temper,  I  prom- 
ise you,  Captain  Ireton." 

With  that  she  left  me  and  went  to  stand  in  the 


42         THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY, 

window-bay ;  and  from  lying  mouse-still  and  watcli- 
ing  her  over-steadily  I  fell  asleep  again.  When  I 
awoke  the  day  was  in  its  gloaming  and  she  was 
gone. 

After  this  I  saw  her  no  more  for  six  full  circlings 
of  the  clock-hands,  and  grew  fair  famished  for  a 
sight  of  her  sweet  face.  But  to  atone,  she,  or  some 
messenger  of  Richard  Jennifer's,  brought  me  my 
faithful  Darius,  and  he  it  was  who  fetched  me  my 
food  and  drink  and  dressed  my  wound.  From  him 
I  gleaned  that  the  master  of  Appleby  Hundred  had 
returned  from  Queensborough,  and  that  there  were 
officers  in  red  coats  continually  going  back  and 
forth',  always  with  a  hearty  welcome  from  Gilbert 
Stair. 

Now,  though  the  master  of  my  stolen  heritage  had 
little  cause  to  love  me,  I  thought  he  had  still  less  to 
fear  me ;  so  it  seemed  passing  strange  that  he  came 
not  once  to  my  bedchamber  to  pass  the  time  of  day 
with  his  unbidden  guest,  or  to  ask  how  he  fared. 
But  in  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  I  reckoned 
without  my  enemy,  though  I  might  have  known  that 
Sir  Francis  would  be  oftenest  among  the  red-coated 
officers  coming  and  going. 

But  stranger  than  this,  or  than  my  lady's  con- 
tinued avoidance  of  me,  was  the  lack  of  a  visit  from 
Richard  Jennifer.  Knowing  well  my  dear  lad's 
loyalty  to  the  patriot  cause,  I  could  only  conjecture 
that  he  had  finally  broken  Margery's  enforced  truce 
to  go  and  join  Mr.  Rutherford's  militia,  which,  as 


MAY   BE    PASSED   OVER   LIGHTLY  43 

Darius  told  me,  was  rallying  to  attack  a  Tory 
stronghold  at  Ramsour's  Mill. 

With  this  surmise  I  was  striving  to  content  my- 
self on  that  evening  of  the  third  day,  when  Mistress 
Margery  burst  in  upon  me,  bright-eyed  and  with  her 
cheeks  aflame. 

"Captain  Ireton,  I  will  know  the  true  cause  of  this 
quarrel  which,  failing  in  yourself,  you  pass  on  to 
Richard  Jennifer !"  she  cried.  "Was  it  not  enough 
that  you  should  get  yourself  half  slain,  without  send- 
ing this  headstrong  boy  to  his  death  ?" 

Now  in  all  my  surmisings  I  had  not  thought  of 
this,  and  truly  if  she  had  sought  far  and  wide  for 
a  whip  to  scourge  me  with  she  could  have  found  no 
thong  to  cut  so  deep. 

"God  help  me!"  I  groaned.  "Has  this  fiend  in- 
carnate killed  my  poor  lad  ?" 

"No,  he  is  not  dead,"  she  confessed,  relenting  a 
little.  "But  he  has  the  baronet's  bullet  through  his 
sword-arm  for  the  sake  of  your  over-seas  disagree- 
ment with  Sir  Francis." 

I  could  not  tell  her  that  though  my  quarrel  with 
this  villain  was  but  the  avenging  of  poor  Dick 
Coverdale's  wrongs,  Richard  Jennifer's  was  for  the 
baronet's  affront  to  her.  So  I  bore  the  blame  in 
silence,  glad  enough  to  be  assured  that  my  dear  lad 
was  only  wounded. 

"Why  don't  you  speak,  sir?"  she  snapped,  flying 
out  at  me  in  a  passion  for  my  lack  of  words. 

"What  should  I  say  ?  I  have  not  forgot  that  once 
you  called  me  ungenerous." 


44         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"You  should  defend  yourself,  if  you  can.  And 
you  should  ask  my  pardon  for  calling  my  father's 
guest  hard  names." 

"The  last  I  will  do  right  heartily.  'Twas  but  the 
simple  truth,  but  it  was  ill-spoken  in  your  presence, 
Mistress  Stair." 

At  this  she  laughed  merrily ;  and  in  all  my  world- 
wanderings  I  had  never  heard  a  sound  so  gladsome 
as  this  sweet  laugh  of  hers  when  she  would  be  on 
the  forgiving  hand. 

"Surely  any  one  would  know  you  are  a  soldier, 
Captain  Ireton.  No  other  could  make  an  apology 
and  renew  the  offense  so  innocently  in  the  same 
breath."  Then  her  mood  changed  again  in  the 
dropping  of  an  eyelid,  and  she  sighed  and  said : 
"Poor  Dick!" 

As  ever  when  she  was  with  me,  my  eyes  were  de- 
vouring her;  and  at  the  sigh  and  the  trembling  of 
the  sweet  lips  in  sympathy  I  found  that  curious 
love-madness  coming  upon  me  again.  Then  I  saw 
that  I  must  straightway  dig  some  chasm  impassa- 
ble between  this  woman  and  me,  as  I  should  hope 
to  be  loyal  to  my  friend.  So  I  said:  "He  loves 
you  well,  Mistress  Margery." 

She  glanced  up  quickly  with  a  smile  which  might 
have  been  mocking  or  loving ;  I  could  not  tell  which 
it  was. 

"Did  he  make  you  his  deputy  to  tell  me  so,  Cap- 
tain Ireton?" 

Now  I  might  have  known  that  she  was  only  lur- 
ing me  on  to  some  pitfall  of  mockery,  but  I  did  not, 


MAY   BE   PASSED   OVER   LIGHTLY  45 

and  must  needs  burst  out  in  some  clumsy  disclaimer 
meant  to  shield  my  dear  lad.  And  in  the  midst  of 
it  she  laughed  again. 

"Oh,  you  do  amuse  me  mightily,  mon  Capitaine" 
she  cried.  "I  do  protest  I  shall  come  to  see  you 
oftener.  "Pis  as  good  as  any  play !" 

"Saw  you  ever  a  play  in  this  backwoods  wilder- 
ness?" I  asked,  glad  of  any  excuse  to  change  the 
talk  and  keep  her  by  me. 

"No,  indeed.  But  you  are  not  to  think  that  no 
one  has  seen  the  great  world  save  only  yourself, 
Captain  Ireton.  What  would  you  say  if  I  should 
tell  you  that  I,  too,  have  seen  your  London,  and 
even  your  Paris  ?"  "J 

Here  I  must  blunder  again  and  say  that  I  had 
been  wondering  how  else  she  came  by  the  Parisian 
French ;  but  at  this  her  jesting  mood  vanished  sud- 
denly and  she  spoke  softly. 

"I  had  it  of  my  mother,  who  came  of  the  Hugue- 
nots. She  spoke  it  always  to  me.  But  my  father 
speaks  it  not,  and  now  I  am  losing  it  for  want  of 
practice." 

How  is  it  that  love  transforms  the  once  contempti- 
ble into  a  thing  most  highly  to  be  prized?  My 
eight  years  of  campaigning  on  the  Continent  had 
given  me  the  French  speech,  or  so  much  of  it  as 
the  clumsy  tongue  of  me  could  master,  and  I  had 
always  held  it  in  hearty  English  scorn.  Yet  now 
I  was  eager  enough  to  speak  it  with  her,  and  to 
take  as  my  very  own  the  little  cry  of  joy  wherewith 
she  welcomed  my  hesitant  mouthing  of  it. 


46         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYi 

From  that  we  fell  to  talking  in  her  mother's 
tongue  of  the  hardships  of  those  same  Huguenot 
emigres;  and  when  I  looked  not  at  her  I  could  speak 
in  terms  dispassionate  and  cool  of  this  or  aught 
else;  and  when  I  looked  upon  her  my  heart  beat 
faster  and  my  blood  leaped  quickly,  and  I  knew  not 
always  what  it  was  I  said. 

After  a  time — 'twas  when  Darius  fetched  me  my 
supper  and  the  candles — she  went  away;  and  so 
ended  a  day  which  saw  the  beginning  of  a  struggle 
fiercer  than  any  the  turbaned  Turk  had  ever  given 
me.  For  when  I  had  eaten,  and  was  alone  with 
time  to  think,  I  knew  well  that  I  loved  this  woman 
and  should  always  love  her;  this  in  spite  of  honor, 
or  loyalty  to  Richard  Jennifer,  or  any  other  thing  in 
heaven  or  earth. 


V 

HOW   I    LOST   WHAT   I    HAD   NEVER   GAINED 

Though  I  dared  not  hope  she  would  keep  her 
promise  and  was  sometimes  so  sorely  beset  as  to 
tremble  at  her  coming,  Margery  looked  in  upon  me 
oftener,  and  soon  there  grew  up  between  us  a  com- 
radeship the  like  of  which,  I  think,  had  never  been 
between  a  woman  loved  and  a  man  who,  loving  her, 
was  yet  constrained  to  play  the  part  of  her  true 
lover's  friend. 

If  I  played  this  part  but  stumblingly ;  if  at  times 
the  madness  of  my  passion  would  not  be  denied 
the  look  or  word  or  hand-clasp  not  of  poor  cool 
friendship ;  I  have  this  to  comfort  me :  that  in  after 
time,  when  my  dear  lad  came  to  know,  he  forgave 
me  freely — nay,  held  me  altogether  blameless,  as 
I  was  not. 

Of  what  these  looks  and  words  and  hand-clasps 
meant  to  Margery  I  had  no  hint.  But  in  my  hours 
of  sanity,  when  I  would  pass  these  slippings  in  re- 
view, I  could  recall  no  answering  flash  of  hers  to 
salt  the  woundings  of  the  conscience-whip.  So  far 
from  it,  it  seemed,  as  this  sweet  comradeship  budded 
47 


48         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

and  blossomed  on  the  stock  of  a  better  acquaintance, 
she  came  to  hold  me  more  as  if  I  were  some  cross 
between  a  father  or  an  elder  brother,  and  some 
closer  confidant  of  her  own  sex. 

You  are  not  to  understand  that  she  was  always 
thus,  nor  over-often.  More  frequently  that  side  of 
her  which  I  soon  came  to  call  the  mother's  was 
turned  to  me,  and  I  was  made  to  stand  a  target  for 
her  wit  and  raillery.  But  she  was  ever  changeful 
as  a  child,  and  in  the  midst  of  some  light  jesting 
mood  would  sober  instantly  and  give  my  age  its 
due. 

In  some  of  these,  her  soberer  times,  I  felt  her 
lean  upon  me  as  my  sister  might,  had  I  had  one; 
at  others  she  would  frankly  set  me  in  her  father's 
place,  declaring  I  must  tell  her  what  to  say  or  do 
in  this  or  that  entanglement.  Again,  and  this  came 
oftener  as  our  friendship  grew,  she  would  talk  to 
me  as  surely  woman  never  talked  to  any  but  a 
kinsman,  telling  me  naively  of  her  conquests,  and 
sparing  no  gallant  of  them  all  save  only  Richard 
Jennifer. 

And  of  Dick  and  his  devotion  she  spoke  now  and 
then,  as  well,  though  never  mockingly,  as  of  the 
others.  Nay,  once  when  I  pressed  her  on  this  point, 
asking  her  plainly  if  my  dear  lad  had  not  good  cause 
to  hope,  she  would  only  smile  and  turn  her  face 
away,  and  say  that  of  all  the  men  she  knew  the  hope- 
ful ones  pleased  her  best.  So  I  was  thus  assured 
that  if  it  were  a  scale  for  love  to  tip,  my  lady's  heart 
would  fall  to  Richard. 


WHAT   I    HAD    NEVER   GAINED      49 

Now  I  took  this  to  be  a  hopeful  sign,  that  she 
would  tell  me  freely  of  these  her  little  heart  affairs ; 
and  seeing  her  so  safe  upon  the  side  of  friendship, 
held  the  looser  rein  upon  my  own  unchartered  pas- 
sion. So  long  as  I  could  keep  my  love  well  masked 
and  hidden  what  harm  could  come  to  her  or  any 
if  I  should  give  it  leave  to  live  in  prison?  None,  I 
thought ;  and  yet  at  times  was  made  a  very  coward 
by  the  thought.  For  love,  like  other  living  things, 
will  grow  by  what  it  feeds  upon,  and  once  full- 
grown,  may  haply  come  to  laugh  at  bonds,  however 
strong  or  cunningly  devised. 

With  such  a  fever  in  my  veins  it  was  little  wonder 
that  my  wound  healed  slowly.  As  time  passed  by, 
with  never  a  word  of  news  from  the  world  without 
— if  Margery  knew  aught  of  the  fighting  she  would 
never  lisp  a  syllable  to  me — and  with  Gilbert  Stair 
still  keeping  churlishly  beyond  the  sight  or  sound 
of  me,  I  fretted  sorely  and  would  be  gone. 

Yet  this  was  but  a  passing  mood.  When  Mar- 
gery was  with  me  I  was  not  ill-content  to  eat  the 
bread  of  sufferance  in  her  father's  house,  and  angry 
pride  had  scanty  footing.  But  when  she  was  away 
this  same  pride  took  sharp  revenges,  getting  me  out 
of  bed  to  bully  Darius  into  dressing  me  that  I  might 
foot  it  up  and  down  the  room  while  I  was  still  unfit 
for  any  useful  thing. 

One  morning  in  the  summer  third  of  June  my 
lady  came  early  and  surprised  me  at  this  business  of 
pacing  back  and  forth.  Whereat  she  scolded  me 
as  was  her  wont  when  I  grew  restive. 


50         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"What  weighty  thing  have  you  to  do  that  you 
should  be  so  fierce  to  be  about  it,  Monsieur  Impetu- 
ous?" she  cried.  "Fi  done!  you'd  try  the  patience 
of  a  saint  1" 

"Which  you  are  not,"  I  ventured.  "But  truly, 
Margery,  I  am  growing  stronger  now,  and  the  bed 
does  irk  me  desperately,  if  you  must  know.  Be- 
sides—" 

"Well,  what  is  there  else  besides?  Do  I  not 
pamper  you  enough  ?" 

I  laughed.  "I'll  say  whatever  you  would  have 
me  say — so  it  be  not  the  truth." 

"I'll  have  you  say  nothing  until  you  sit  down." 

She  pushed  the  great  chair  of  Indian  wickerwork 
into  place  before  the  window-bay,  and  when  I  was 
at  rest  she  drew  up  a  low  hassock  and  sat  at  my 
feet. 

"Now  you  may  go  on,"  she  said. 

"You  have  not  told  me  what  you  would  have  me 
say." 

"The  truth,"  she  commanded. 

"  '  "What  is  truth,"  said  jesting  Pilate/  "  I  quoted. 
"Why  do  you  suppose  my  Lord  Bacon  thought  the 
Roman  procurator  jested  at  such  a  time  and  place?" 

"You  are  quibbling,  Monsieur  John.  I  want  to 
know  why  you  are  so  impatient  to  be  gone." 

"Saw  you  ever  a  man  worthy  the  name  who  could 
be  content  to  bide  inactive  when  duty  calls  ?" 

"That  is  not  the  whole  truth,"  she  said,  half  ab- 
sently. "You  think  you  are  unwelcome  here." 


WHAT   I    HAD    NEVER   GAINED      51 

"  'Twas  you  said  that ;  not  I.  But  I  must  needs 
know  your  father  will  be  relieved  when  he  is  safely 
quit  of  me." 

"  'Twas  you  said  that,  not  I,  Monsieur  John,"  she 
retorted,  giving  me  back  my  own  words.  "Has 
ever  word  been  brought  you  that  he  would  speed 
your  parting  ?" 

"Surely  not,  since  I  am  still  here.  But  you  must 
know  that  I  have  never  seen  his  face,  as  yet." 

"And  is  that  strange  ?  You  must  not  forget  that 
he  is  Gilbert  Stair,  and  you  are  Roger  Ireton's 
son." 

"I  am  not  likely  to  forget  it.  But  still  a  word  of 
welcome  to  the  unbidden  guest  would  not  have  come 
amiss.  And  it  was  none  of  my  seeking — this 
asylum  in  his  house." 

"True ;  but  that  has  naught  to  do  with'  any  cool- 
ness of  my  father's." 

"What  is  it,  then? — besides  the  fact  that  I  am 
Roger  Ireton's  son  ?" 

"I  think  'twas  what  you  said  to  Mr.  Pengarvin." 

"That  little  smirking  wretch?  What  has  he  to 
say  or  do  in  this  ?" 

She  looked  away  from  me  and  said :  "He  is  my 
father's  factor  and  man  of  affairs." 

"Ah,  I  have  always  to  be  craving  your  pardon, 
Margery.  But  I  said  naught  to  this  parchment- 
faced — to  this  Mr.  Pengarvin,  that  might  offend 
your  father,  or  any." 

"How,  then,  will  you  explain  this,  that  you  swore 


52         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

to  drive  my  father  from  Appleby  Hundred  as  soon 
as  ever  you  had  raised  a  following  among  the 
rebels?" 

"  'Tis  easily  explained :  this  thrice-accursed — oh, 
pardon  me  again,  I  pray  you ;  I  will  not  name  him 
any  name  at  all.  What  I  meant  to  say  was  that  he 
lied.  I  made  no  threats  to  him;  to  tell  the  plain 
truth,  I  was  too  fiercely  mad  to  bandy  words  with 
him." 

"What  made  you  mad,  Monsieur  John  ?" 

"  'Twas  his  threat  to  me — to  taint  me  with  my 
father's  outlawry.     Do  you  greatly  blame  me,  Mar- 
gery?" 
,    "No." 

Thereat  a  silence  came  and  sat  between  us,  and 
I  fell  to  loving  her  the  more  because  of  it ;  but  when 
she  spoke  I  always  loved  her  more  for  speaking. 

"My  father  has  had  little  peace  since  coming 
here,"  she  said,  at  length.  "He  is  old  and  none 
too  well ;  and  as  for  king  and  Congress,  asks  nothing 
but  his  right  to  hold  aloof.  And  this  they  will  not 
give  him." 

Remembering  what  Jennifer  had  told  me  of  Gil- 
bert Stair's  trimming,  I  smiled  within. 

"That  is  the  way  of  all  the  world  in  war-time, 
ma  petite.  A  partizan  may  suffer  once  for  all,  but 
both  sides  hold  a  neutral  lawful  prey." 

'Twas  as  the  spark  to  tinder ;  my  word  the  spark 
and  in  her  eyes  the  answering  flash. 

"I  tell  him  so !"  she  cried.  "I  tell  him  always  that 
the  king  will  have  his  own  again.  But  still  he  halts 


WHAT   I    HAD    NEVER   GAINED      53 

and  hesitates ;  and  when  these  rebels  come  and  quar- 
ter on  us — " 

I  fear  she  must  have  seen  my  inward  smile  this 
time,  for  she  broke  off  in  the  midst,  and  I  made 
haste  to  forestall  her  flying  out  at  me. 

"Oh,  come,  my  dear ;  you  should  not  be  so  fierce 
with  him  when  you  yourself  have  brought  a  rebel 
to  his  house  to  nurse  alive." 

She  looked  me  fairly  in  the  eye.  "You  should 
be  the  last  to  remind  me  of  my  treason,  Monsieur 
John." 

"Then  you  are  free  to  call  it  treason,  are  you, 
Margery?"  I  said. 

She  looked  away  from  me  again.  "How  can  it 
well  be  less  than  treason?"  Then  suddenly  she 
turned  and  clasped  her  hands  upon  my  knee.  "You 
must  not  be  too  hard  upon  me,  Monsieur  John. 
I've  tried  to  do  my  duty  as  I  saw  it,  and  I  have 
asked  no  questions.  And  yet  I  know  much  more 
than  you  have  told  me." 

"What  do  you  know  ?" 

"I  know  your  wound  has  been  your  safety.  If 
you  should  leave  this  room  and  house  to-day  you 
would  never  wear  the  buff  and  blue  again,  Cap- 
tain Ireton." 

"You  mean  they  would  hang  me  for  a  spy.  Will 
you  believe  me,  Margery,  if  I  say  I  have  not  yet 
worn  the  buff  and  blue  at  all  ?" 

"Oh!"  The  little  exclamation  was  of  pure  de- 
light. "Then  they  were  all  mistaken  ?  You  are  no 
rebel,  after  all?" 


54         THE   MASTER   OF  'APPLEBY 

Was  ever  man  so  tempted  since  the  fall  of  Adam  ? 
As  I  have  writ  it  down  for  you  in  measured  words, 
I  was  no  more  than  half  a  patriot  at  this  time.  And 
love  has  made  more  traitors  than  its  opposites  of 
lust  or  greed.  In  no  uncertain  sense  I  was  a  man 
without  a  country;  and  this  fair  maiden  on  the 
hassock  at  my  feet  was  all  the  world  to  me.  I  saw 
in  briefer  time  than  any  clock  hands  ever  measured 
how  much  a  yielding  word  might  do. for  me;  and 
then  I  thought  of  Richard  Jennifer  and  was  myself 
again. 

"Nay,  little  one,"  I  said ;  "there  has  been  no  mis- 
take. For  their  own  purposes  my  enemies  have 
passed  the  word  that  I  am  here  as  the  Baron  de 
Kalb's  paid  spy.  That  is  no  mistake;  'tis  a  lie  cut 
out  of  whole  cloth.  I  came  here  straight  from 
New  Berne,  and  back  of  that  from  London  and  the 
Continent,  and  scarcely  know  the  buff  and  blue  by 
sight.  But  I  am  Carolina  born,  dear  lady ;  and  this 
King  George's  governor  hanged  my  father.  So, 
when  God  gives  me  strength  to  mount  and  ride — " 

"Now  who  is  fierce?"  she  cried.  And  then,  like 
lightning:  "Will  you  raise  a  band  of  rebels  and 
come  and  take  your  own  again  ?" 

"You  know  I  will  not,"  I  protested,  so  gravely 
that  she  laughed  again,  though  now  there  were 
tears,  from  what  well-spring  of  emotion  I  knew  not, 
in  her  eyes. 

"OH,  mercy  me !  Have  you  never  one  little  grain 
of  imagination,  Monsieur  John  ?  You  are  too  mon- 


WHAT   I    HAD    NEVER   GAINED      55 

strous  literal  for  our  poor  jesting  age."  Then  slie 
sobered  quickly  and  added  this:  "And  yet  I  fear 
that  this  is  what  my  father  fears." 

I  did  not  tell  her  that  he  might  have  feared  it 
once  with  reason,  or  that  now  the  houseless  dog 
she  petted  should  have  life  of  me  though  mine 
enemy  should  sick  him  on.  But  I  did  say  her  father 
had  no  present  cause  to  dread  me. 

"He  thinks  he  has.  And  surely  there  is  cause 
enough,"  she  added. 

I  smiled,  and,  loving  her  the  more  for  her  fair- 
ness, must  smile  again. 

"Nay,  you  have  changed  all  that,  dear  lady. 
Truly,  I  did  at  first  fly  out  at  him  and  all  con- 
cerned for  what  has  made  me  a  poor  pensioner  in 
my  father's  house — or  rather  in  the  house  that  was 
my  father's.  But  that  was  while  the  hurt  was  new. 
I  have  been  a  soldier  of  fortune  too  long  to  think 
overmuch  of  the  loss  of  Appleby  Hundred.  'Twas 
my  father's,  certainly ;  but  'twas  never  mine." 

"And  yet — and  yet  it  should  be  yours,  John  Ire- 
ton."  She  said  it  bravely,  with  uplifted  face  and 
eloquent  eyes  that  one  who  ran  might  read. 

"  'Tis  good  and  true  of  you  to  say  so,  little  one ; 
but  there  be  two  sides  to  that,  as  well.  So  my 
father's  acres  come  at  last  to  you  and  Richard  Jen- 
nifer, I  shall  be  well  content,  I  do  assure  you, 
Margery." 

She  sprang  up  from  Her  low  seat  and  went  to 
stand  in  the  window-bay.  After  a  time  she  turned 


56         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

and  faced  me  once  again,  and  the  warm  blood  was 
in  cheek  and  neck,  and  there  was  a  soft  light  in  her 
eyes  to  make  them  shine  like  stars. 

"Then  you  would  have  me  marry  Richard  Jenni- 
fer?" she  asked. 

'Twas  but  a  little  word  that  honor  bade  me  say, 
and  yet  it  choked  me  and  I  could  not  say  it. 

"Dick  would  have  you,  Margery;  and  Dick  is 
my  dear  friend — as  I  am  his." 

"But  you?"  she  queried.  "Were  you  my  friend, 
as  well,  is  this  as  you  would  have  it  ?" 

My  look  went  past  her  through  the  lead-rimmed 
window-panes  to  the  great  oaks  and  hickories  on 
the  lawn ;  to  these  and  to  the  white  road  winding  in 
and  out  among  them.  While  yet  I  sought  for  words 
in  which  to  give  her  unreservedly  to  my  dear  lad, 
two  horsemen  trotted  into  view.  One  of  them  was 
a  king's  man;  the  other  a  civilian  in  sober  black. 
The  redcoat  rode  as  English  troopers  do,  with  a 
firm  seat,  as  if  the  man  were  master  of  his  mount ; 
but  the  smaller  man  in  black  seemed  little  to  the 
manner  born,  and  daylight  shuttled  in  and  out  be- 
neath him,  keeping  time  to  the  jog-trot  of  his  beast. 

I  thought  it  passing  strange  that  with  all  good 
will  to  answer  her,  these  coming  horsemen  seemed 
to  hold  me  silent.  And,  indeed,  I  did  not  speak 
until  they  came  so  near  that  I  could  make  them 
out. 

"I  am  your  friend,  Margery  mine;  as  good  a 
friend  as  you  will  let  me  be.  And  as  between  Rich- 


WHAT   I    HAD    NEVER   GAINED      57 

ard  Jennifer  and  another,  I  should  be  a  sorry  friend 
to  Dick  did  I  not — " 

She  heard  the  clink  of  horseshoes  on  the  gravel 
and  turned,  signing  to  me  for  silence  while  she 
looked  below.  The  window  overhung  the  entrance 
on  that  side,  and  through  the  opened  air-casement  I 
heard  some  babblement  of  voices,  though  not  the 
words. 

"I  must  go  down,"  she  said.  "  'Tis  company 
come,  and  my  father  is  away." 

She  passed  behind  my  chair,  and,  hearing  her 
hand  upon  the  latch,  I  had  thought  her  gone — gone 
down  to  welcome  my  enemy  and  his  riding  mate, 
the  factor.  But  while  I  was  cursing  my  unready 
tongue  and  repenting  that  I  had  not  given  her  some 
small  word  of  warning,  she  spoke  again. 

"You  say  'Richard  Jennifer  or  another.'  What 
know  you  of  any  other,  Monsieur  John  ?" 

"Nay,  I  know  nothing  save  what  you  have  told 
me;  and  from  that  I  have  been  hoping  there  was 
no  other." 

"But  if  I  say  there  may  be?" 

My  heart  went  sick  at  that.  True,  I  had  thought 
to  give  her  generously  to  Dick,  whose  right  was 
paramount ;  but  to  another — 

"Margery,  come  hither  where  I  may  see  you." 
And  when  she  stood  before  me  like  a  bidden  child : 
"Tell  me,  little  comrade,  who  is  that  other  ?" 

But  now  her  mood  was  changed  again,  and  from 
standing  sweet  and  pensive  she  fell  a-laughing. 


58         THE   MASTER   OF.   APPLEBY 

"What  impudence!"  she  cried.  "Ma  foil  You 
should  borrow  Pere  Matthieu's  cassock  and  brev- 
iary; then,  mayhap,  I  might  confess  to  you.  But 
not  before." 

But  still  I  pressed  her. 

"Tell  me,  Margery." 

She  tossed  her  head  and  would  not  look  at  me. 
"Dick  Jennifer  is  but  a  boy ;  suppose  this  other  were 
a  man  full-grown." 

"Yes?" 

"And  a  soldier." 

The  sickness  in  my  heart  became  a  fire. 

"O  Margery!  Don't  tell  me  it  is  this  fiend  who 
came  just  now !" 

All  in  a  flash  the  jesting  mood  was  gone,  but 
that  which  took  its  place  was  strange  to  me.  Tears 
came;  her  bosom  heaved.  And  then  she  would 
have  passed  me  but  I  caught  her  hands  and  held 
them  fast. 

"Margery,  one  moment :  for  your  own  sweet  sake, 
if  not  for  Dick's  or  mine,  have  naught  to  do  with 
this  devil's  emissary  of  a  man.  If  you  only  knew — 
if  I  dared  tell  you — " 

But  for  once,  it  seemed,  I  had  stretched  my  privi- 
lege beyond  the  limit.  She  whipped  her  hands  from 
my  hold  and  faced  me  coldly. 

"Sir  Francis  says  you  are  a  brave  gentleman, 
Captain  Ireton,  and  though  he  knows  well  what  you 
would  be  about,  Ke  has  not  sent  a  file  of  men  to 
put  you  in  arrest.  And  in  return  you  call  him 


WHAT   I    HAD   NEVER   GAINED      59 

names  behind  his  back.  I  shall  not  stay  to  listen, 
sir." 

With  that  she  passed  again  behind  my  chair,  and 
once  again  I  heard  her  hand  upon  the  latch.  But 
I  would  say  my  say. 

"Forgive  me,  Margery,  I  pray  you;  'twas  only 
what  you  said  that  made  me  mad.  'Tis  less  than 
naught  if  you'll  deny  it." 

I  waited  long  and  patiently,  and  thought  she  must 
have  gone  before  her  answer  came.  And  this  is 
what  she  said : 

"If  I  must  tell  you  then ;  'tis  now  two  weeks  and 
more  since  Sir  Francis  Falconnet  asked  me  to  marry 
him.  I — I  hope  you  do  feel  better,  Captain  Ire- 
ton." 

And  with  these  bitterest  of  all  words  to  her  leave- 
taking,  she  left  me  to  endure  as  best  I  might  the 
hell  of  torment  they  had  lighted  for  me. 


VI 

SHOWING    HOW    RED    WRATH    MAY    HEAL   A    WOUND. 

It  was  full  two  days  after  the  coming  of  the  baro- 
net and  the  factor-lawyer  Pengarvin  before  I  saw 
my  lady's  face  near-hand  again,  and  sometimes  I 
was  glad  for  Richard  Jennifer's  sake,  but  oftener 
would  curse  and  swear  because  I  was  bound  hand 
and  foot  and  could  not  balk  my  enemy. 

I  knew  Sir  Francis  and  the  lawyer  still  lingered 
on  at  Appleby  Hundred — indeed,  I  saw  them  daily 
from  my  window — and  Darius  would  be  telling  me 
that  they  waited  upon  the  coming  of  some  courier 
from  the  south.  But  this  I  disbelieved.  Some  such- 
like lie  the  baronet  might  have  told,  I  thought ;  but 
when  I  saw  him  walk  abroad  with  Margery  on  his 
arm,  pacing  back  and  forth  beneath  the  oaks  and 
bending  low  to  catch  her  lightest  word  with  grave 
and  courtly  deference  that  none  knew  better  how  to 
feign,  I  knew  wherefore  he  stayed — knew  and  raged 
afresh  at  my  own  impotence,  and  for  the  thought 
that  Margery  was  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  this  devil. 

Yours  is  a  colder  century  than  was  ours,  my 
dears.  Your  art  has  tempered  love  and  passion  into 

60 


RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND      61 

sentiment,  and  hate  you  have  learned  to  call  aversion 
or  dislike.  But  we  of  that  simple-hearted  elder 
time  were  more  downright ;  and  I  have  writ  the 
word  I  mean  in  saying  that  my  love  was  at  the 
mercy  of  this  fiend. 

I  know  not  how  it  is  or  why,  but  there  are  men 
who  have  this  gift — some  winning  way  to  turn  a 
woman's  head  or  touch  her  heart ;  and  I  knew  well 
this  gift  was  his.  'Twas  not  his  face,  for  that  was 
something  less  than  handsome,  to  my  fancy;  nor 
yet  his  figure,  though  that  was  big  and  soldierly 
enough.  It  was  rather  in  some  subtlety  of  man- 
ner, some  power  of  simulation  whereby  in  any 
womanly  heart  he  seemed  to  stand  at  will  for  that 
which  he  was  not. 

As  I  have  said,  I  knew  him  well  enough ;  knew 
him  incapable  of  love  apart  from  passion,  and  that 
to  him  there  was  no  sacredness  in  maiden  chastity 
or  wifely  vows.  So  he  but  gained  his  end  he  cared 
no  whit  what  followed  after;  ruin,  broken  hearts, 
lost  souls,  a  man  slain  now  and  then  to  keep  the 
scale  from  tipping — all  were  as  one  to  him,  or  to 
the  Francis  Falconnet  I  knew. 

And  touching  marriage,  with  Margery  or  any 
other,  I  feared  that  love  would  have  no  word  to 
say.  Passion  there  might  be,  and  that  fierce  desire 
to  have  and  wear  which  burns  like  any  miser's  fever 
in  the  blood ;  but  never  love  as  lovers  measure  it. 
Why,  then,  had  he  proposed  to  Margery  ?  The  an- 
swer did  not  tarry.  Since  he  was  now  but  a  gentle- 
man volunteer  it  was  plain  that  he  had  squandered 


62         THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

his  estate,  and  so  might  brook  the  marriage  chain 
if  it  were  linked  up  with  my  father's  acres. 

It  was  a  bait  to  lure  such  a  gamester  strongly. 
As  matters  stood  with  us  in  that  wan  summer  of 
exhaustion  and  defeat,  the  king's  cause  waxed  and 
grew  more  hopeful  day  by  day.  And  in  event  of 
final  victory  a  landless  baronet,  marrying  Margery's 
dower  of  Appleby  Hundred,  might  snap  his  fingers 
at  the  Jews  who,  haply,  had  driven  him  forth  from 
England. 

And  as  for  Margery?  Truly,  she  had  told  me, 
or  as  good  as  told  me,  that  her  maiden  love  had 
pledged  itself  a  pawn  for  Jennifer's  redeeming.  But 
there  be  other  things  than  love  to  sway  a  woman's 
will.  This  volunteer  captain  with  the  winning  way 
was  of  the  haute  noblesse,  and  he  could  make  her 
Lady  Falconnet.  Moreover,  he  was  with  her  day 
by  day ;  and  you  may  mark  this  as  you  will ;  that  a 
present  suitor  hath  ever  the  trump  cards  to  play 
against  the  absent  lover. 

So,  brooding  over  this,  I  wore  out  two  most  dis- 
mal days — the  first  in  many  I  had  had  to  pass  alone. 
But  on  the  morning  of  the  third  the  sky  was  light- 
ened, though  then  the  light  was  but  a  flash  and 
darkness  followed  quickly  after.  She  came  again 
and  brought  me  a  visitor;  it  was  this  same  Father 
Matthieu  with  whom  she  had  jestingly  compared 
me,  and  lest  I  should  take  my  punishment  too  lightly, 
stayed  but  to  make  the  good  priest  known  to  me. 

Now  I  was  born  and  bred  an  heretic,  by  any 
papist's  reckoning,  but  I  have  ever  held  it  witless  in 


RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND      63 

that  man  who  lets  a  creed  obstruct  a  friendship. 
Moreover,  this  sweet-faced  cleric  was  the  friendliest 
of  men ;  friendly,  and  yet  the  wiliest  Jesuit  of  them 
all,  since  he  read  me  at  a  glance  and  fell  straight- 
way to  praising  Margery. 

"A  truly  sweet  young  demoiselle,"  he  said,  by 
way  of  foreword,  no  sooner  was  the  door  closed 
behind  her,  and  while  he  preached  a  sermon  on  this 
text  I  grew  to  know  and  love  him. 

He  was  a  little  man,  as  bone  and  muscle  go,  with 
deep-set  eyes,  and  features  kind  and  mild  and  fine 
as  any  woman's ;  some  such  face  as  Leonardo  gave 
St.  John,  could  that  have  been  less  youthful.  I 
could  not  tell  his  order,  though  from  his  well-worn 
cassock  girded  at  the  waist  with  a  frayed  bit  of 
hempen  cord  he  might  have  been  a  Little  Brother 
of  the  Poor.  But  this  I  noted;  that  he  was  not 
tonsured,  and  his  white  hair,  soft  and  fine  as  Mar- 
gery's, was  like  an  aureole  to  the  finely  chiseled 
features.  As  missionary  men  of  any  creed  are  apt, 
he  looked  far  older  than  he  really  was;  and  when 
he  came  to  tell  me  of  his  life  among  the  Indians, 
it  was  patent  how  the  years  had  multiplied  upon 
him. 

I  listened,  well  enough'  content  to  learn  him  bet- 
ter by  his  own  report. 

"But  you  must  find  it  thankless  work;  this  gos- 
peling  in  the  wilderness,"  I  ventured,  when  all  was 
said.  "  Tis  but  a  hermit's  life  for  any  man  of 
parts;  and  after  all,  when  you  have  done  your  ut- 
most, your  converts  are  but  savages,  as  they  were." 


64         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

At  this  he  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "Non, 
Monsieur,  not  so.  You  are  a  soldier  and  can  not 
see  beyond  your  point  of  sword.  Mais,  mon  ami, 
they  have  souls  to  save,  these  poor  children  of  the 
forest,  and  they  are  far  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning.  I  find  them  kind  and  true  and  faithful ; 
and  some  of  them  are  noble,  in  their  way." 

I  laughed.  "I've  read  about  those  noble  ones," 
I  said.  "  'Twas  in  a  book  called  'Hakluyt's  Voy- 
ages.' Truly,  I  know  them  not  as  you  do,  for  in 
my  youth  I  knew  them  most  in  war.  We  called 
them  brave  but  cruel  then ;  and  when  I  was  a  boy  I 
could  have  shown  you  where,  within  a  mile  of  this, 
they  burned  poor  Davie  Davidson  at  the  stake." 

"Ah,  yes;  there  has  been  much  of  that,"  he 
sighed.  "But  you  must  confess,  Captain  Ireton, 
that  you  English  carry  fire  and  sword  among  them, 
too." 

From  that  he  would  have  told  me  more  about  the 
savages,  but  I  was  interested  nearer  home.  As  I 
have  said,  I  was  like  any  prisoner  in  a  dungeon 
for  lack  of  news,  and  so  by  degrees  I  fetched  him 
round  to  telling  me  of  what  was  going  on  beyond 
my  window-sight  of  lawn  and  forest. 

Brave  deeds  were  to  the  fore,  it  seemed.  At 
Ramsour's  Mill,  a  few  miles  north  and  west,  some 
little  handful  of  determined  patriots  had  bested 
thrice  their  number  of  the  king's  partizans,  and  that 
without  a  leader  bigger  than  a  county  colonel. 
Lord  Rawdon,  in  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis's 
van,  had  come  as  far  as  Waxhaw  Creek,  but,  being 


REQ  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND     65 

unsupported,  had  withdrawn  to  Hanging  Rock. 
Our  Mr.  Rutherford  was  on  his  way  to  the  Forks 
of  Yadkin  to  engage  the  Tories  gathering  under 
Colonel  Bryan.  As  yet,  it  seemed,  we  had  no  force 
of  any  consequence  to  take  the  field  against  Corn- 
wallis,  though  there  were  flying  rumors  of  an  army 
marching  from  Virginia,  with  a  new-appointed  gen- 
eral at  its  head. 

On  the  whole  it  was  the  king's  cause  that  pros- 
pered, and  the  rising  wave  of  invasion  bade  fair  to 
inundate  the  land.  So  thought  my  kindly  gossip; 
and,  having  naught  to  gain  or  lose  in  the  great  war, 
or  rather  having  naught  to  lose  and  everything  to 
gain,  whichever  way  these  worldly  cards  might  run, 
he  was  a  fair,  impartial  witness. 

As  you  may  well  suppose,  this  news  awoke  in  me 
the  lust  of  battle,  and  I  must  chafe  the  more  for 
having  it.  And  while  my  visitor  talked  on,  and  I 
was  listening  with  the  outward  ear,  my  brain  was 
busy  putting  two  and  two  together.  How  came  it 
that  the  British  outpost  still  remained  at  Queens- 
borough,  with  my  Lord  Rawdon  withdrawn  and  the 
patriot  home  guard  well  down  upon  its  rear  ?  Some 
urgent  reason  for  the  stay  there  must  be;  and  at 
that  I  remembered  what  Darius  had  told  me  of  its 
captain's  waiting  for  some  messenger  from  the 
south. 

I  scored  this  matter  with  a  question  mark,  putting 
it  aside  to  think  on  more  when  I  should  be  alone. 
And  when  the  priest  had  told  me  all  the  news  at 
large,  we  came  again  to  speak  of  Margery. 


66         THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

"I  go  and  come  through  all  this  borderland,"  he 
said,  when  I  had  asked  him  how  and  why  he  came 
to  Appleby  Hundred,  "but  it  was  mam'selle's  mes- 
sage brought  me  here.  She  is  my  one  ewe  lamb  in 
all  this  region,  and  I  would  journey  far  to  see  her." 

I  wondered  pointedly  at  this,  for  in  that  day  the 
West  was  fiercely  Protestant  and  the  Mother 
Church  had  scanty  footing  in  the  borderland. 

"But  Mistress  Margery  is  not  a  Catholic !"  said  I. 

His  look  forgave  the  protest  in  the  words. 

"Indeed,  she  is,  my  son.     Has  she  not  told  you  ?" 

Now  truly  she  had  not  told  me  so  in  any  measured 
word  or  phrase;  and  yet  I  might  have  guessed  it, 
since  she  had  often  spoken  lovingly  of  this  same 
Father  Matthieu.  And  yet  it  was  incredible  to  me. 

"But  how — I  do  not  understand  how  that  can 
be,"  I  stammered.  "Surely,  she  told  me  she  was  of 
Huguenot  blood  on  the  mother's  side,  and  that 
is—" 

The  missionary's  smile  was  lenient  still,  but  full 
of  meaning. 

"Not  all  wKo  wander  from  the  Catholic  fold  are 
lost  forever,  Captain  Ireton.  The  mother  of  this 
demoiselle  lived  all  her  life  a  Protestant,  I  think, 
but  when  she  came  to  die  she  sent  for  me.  And 
that  is  how  her  child  was  sent  to  France  and  grew 
up  convent-bred.  Monsieur  Stair  gave  his  promise 
at  the  mother's  death-bed,  and  though  he  liked  it  not, 
he  kept  it." 

"Aha,  I  see.  And  for  this  single  lamb  of  your 
scant  fold  you  brave  the  terrors  of  our  heretic  back- 


RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND     67 

woods?  It  does  you  credit,  Father  Matthieu.  The 
war  fills  all  horizons  now,  mayhap,  but  I  have  seen 
the  time  in  Mecklenburg  when  your  cassock  would 
have  been  a  challenge  to  the  mob." 

His  smile  was  quite  devoid  of  bitterness.  "The 
time  has  not  yet  passed,"  he  said,  gently.  "I  have 
been  six  weeks  on  the  way  from  Maryland  hither, 
hiding  in  the  forest  by  day  and  faring  on  at  night. 
Indeed,  I  was  in  hiding  on  a  neighboring  planta- 
tion when  our  demoiselle's  messenger  found  me." 

This  put  me  keen  upon  remembering  what  had 
gone  before;  how  he  had  said  at  first  that  she  had 
sent  for  him.  I  thought  it  strange,  knowing  how 
perilous  the  time  and  place  must  be  for  such  as  he. 
But  not  until  he  rose  and,  bidding  me  good  day, 
left  me  to  myself,  did  I  so  much  as  guess  the  thing 
his  coming  meant.  When  I  had  guessed  it;  when 
I  put  this  to  that — her  telling  me  Sir  Francis  had 
proposed  for  her,  and  this  her  sending  for  the 
priest — the  madness  of  my  love  for  her  was  as 
naught  compared  to  that  anger  which  seized  and 
racked  me. 

I  know  not  how  the  hours  of  this  black  day  were 
made  to  come  and  go,  grinding  me  to  dust  and 
ashes  in  their  passage,  yet  leaving  me  alive  and 
keen  to  suffer  at  the  end. 

A  thousand  times  that  day  I  lived  in  torment 
through  the  scene  in  which  the  priest  had  doubtless 
come  to  play  his  part  of  joiner.  The  stage  for  it 
would  be  the  great  room  fronting  south ;  the  room 
my  father  used  to  call  our  castle  hall.  For  guests 


68         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

I  thought  there  would  be  space  enough  and  some  to 
spare,  for,  as  you  know,  our  Mecklenburg  was 
patriot  to  the  core.  But  as  to  this,  the  bridegroom's 
troopers  might  fill  out  the  tale,  and  in  my  heated 
fancy  I  could  see  them  grouped  beneath  the  candle- 
sconces  with  belts  and  baldrics  fresh  pipe-clayed, 
and  shakos  doffed,  and  sabretaches  well  in  front. 
"A  man  full-grown — a  soldier,"  she  had  said;  and 
trooper-guests  were  fitting  in  such  case. 

From  serving  in  a  Catholic  land  I  knew  the  cus- 
toms of  the  Mother  Church.  So  I  could  see  the 
priest  in  cassock,  alb  and  stole  as  he  would  stand 
before  some  makeshift  altar  lit  with  candles.  And 
as  he  stands  they  come  to  kneel  before  him;  my 
winsome  Margery  in  all  her  royal  beauty,  a  child 
to  love,  and  yet  an  empress  peerless  in  her  woman's 
realm ;  and  at  her  side,  with  his  knee  touching  hers, 
this  man  who  was  a  devil! 

i  What  wonder  if  I  cursed  and  choked  and  cursed 
again  when  the  maddening  thought  of  what  all  this 
should  mean  for  my  poor  wounded  Richard — and 
later  on,  for  Margery  herself — possessed  me?  In 
which  of  these  hot  fever-gusts  of  rage  the  thought 
of  interference  came,  I  know  not.  But  that  it  came 
at  length — a  thought  and  plan  full-grown  at  birth 
— I  do  know. 

i  The  pointing  of  the  plan  was  desperate  and  sim- 
ple. It  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  this:  I 
knew  the  house  and  every  turn  and  passage  in  it, 
and  when  the  hour  should  strike  I  said  I  should  go 
down  and  skulk  among  the  guests,  and  at  the  cru- 


RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND      69 

cial  moment  find  or  seize  a  weapon  and  fling  my- 
self upon  this  bridegroom  as  he  should  kneel  before 
the  altar. 

With  strength  to  bend  him  back  and  strike  one 
blow,  I  saw  not 'why  it  might  not  win.  And  as  for 
strength,  I  have  learned  this  in  war:  that  so  the 
rage  be  hot  enough  'twill  nerve  a  dying  man  to 
hack  and  hew  and  stab  as  with  the  strength  of  ten. 

Although  it  was  most  terribly  over-long  in  com- 
ing, the  end  of  that  black  day  did  come  at  last,  and 
with  it  Darius  to  fetch  my  supper  and  the  candles. 
You  may  be  sure  I  questioned  him,  and,  if  you 
know  the  blacks,  you'll  smile  and  say  I  had  my  la- 
bor for  my  pains — the  which  I  had.  His  place  was 
at  the  quarters,  and  of  what  went  on  within  the 
house  he  knew  no  more  than  I.  But  this  he  told 
me;  that  company  surely  was  expected,  and  that 
some  air  of  mystery  was  abroad. 

When  he  was  gone  I  ate  a  soldier's  portion, 
knowing  of  old  how  ill  a  thing  it  is  to  take  an  empty 
stomach  into  battle.  For  the  same  cause  I  drank  a 
second  cup  of  wine, — 'twas  old  madeira  of  my 
father's  laying-in,  and  would  have  drunk  a  third 
but  that  the  bottle  would  not  yield  it. 

It  was  fully  dark  when  I  had  finished,  and,  think- 
ing ever  on  my  plan,  would  strive  afresh  to  weld 
its  weakest  link.  This  was  the  hazard  of  the 
weapon-getting.  With  full-blood  health  and 
strength  I  might  have  gone  bare-handed ;  but  as  it 
was,  I  feared  to  take  the  chance.  So  with  a  candle 
I  went  a-prowling  in  the  deep  drawers  of  the  old 


70         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

oaken  clothes-press  and  in  the  escritoire  which  once 
had  been  my  mother's,  and  found  no  weapon  bigger 
than  a  hairpin. 

It  was  no  great  disappointment,  for  I  had  looked 
before  with  daylight  in  the  room.  Besides,  the  wine 
was  mounting,  and  when  the  search  was  done  the 
hazard  seemed  the  less.  So  I  could  rush  upon  him 
unawares  and  put  my  knee  against  his  back,  I 
thought  the  Lord  of  Battles  would  give  me  strength 
to  break  his  neck  across  it. 

At  that  I  capped  the  candles,  and,  taking  post  in 
the  deep  bay  of  the  window,  set  myself  to  watch 
for  the  lighting  of  the  great  room  at  the  front.  This 
had  two  windows  on  my  side,  and  while  I  could  not 
see  them,  I  knew  that  I  should  see  the  sheen  of 
light  upon  the  lawn. 

The  night  was  clear  but  moonless,  and  the  thick- 
leafed  masses  of  the  oaks  and  hickories  rose  a  wall 
of  black  to  curtain  half  the  hemisphere  of  starry 
sky.  As  always  in  our  forest  land,  the  hour  was 
shrilly  vocal,  though  to  me  the  chirping  din  of 
frogs  and  insects  hath  ever  stood  for  silence.  Some- 
where beyond  the  thicket-wall  an  owl  was  calling 
mournfully,  and  I  bethought  me  of  that  supersti- 
tion— old  as  man,  for  aught  I  know — of  how  the 
hooting  of  an  owl  betokens  death.  And  then  I 
laughed,  for  surely  death  would  come  to  one  or 
more  of  those  beneath  my  father's  roof  within  the 
compass  of  the  night. 

Behind  the  close-drawn  curtain,  though  I  could 
see  it  not,  the  virgin  forest  darkened  all  the  land ; 


RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND;  71 

and  from  afar  within  its  secret  depth's  I  heard,  or 
thought  I  heard,  the  dismal  howling  of  the  timber 
wolves.  Below,  the  house  was  silent  as  the  grave, 
and  this  seemed  strange  to  me.  For  in  the  time  of 
my  youth  a  wedding  was  a  joyous  thing.  Yet  I 
would  remember  that  these  present  times  were  per- 
ilous ;  and  also  that  my  bridegroom  captained  but  a 
little  band  of  troopers  in  a  land  but  now  become 
fiercely  debatable. 

It  must  have  been  an  hour  or  more  before  the 
sound  of  distance-muffled  hoofbeats  on  the  road 
broke  in  upon  the  chirping  silence  of  the  night.  I 
looked  and  listened,  straining  eye  and  ear,  hearing 
but  little  and  seeing  less  until  three  shadowy  horse- 
men issued  from  the  curtain-wall  of  black  beneath 
my  window. 

It  was  plain  that  others  watched  as  well  as  I,  for 
at  their  coming  a  sheen  of  light  burst  from  the 
opened  door  below,  at  which  there  were  sword- 
clankings  as  of  armed  men  dismounting,  and  then 
a  few  low-voiced  words  of  welcome.  Followed 
quickly  the  closing  of  the  door  and  silence;  and 
when  my  eyes  grew  once  again  accustomed  to  the 
gloom,  I  saw  below  the  horses  standing  head  to 
head,  and  in  the  midst  a  man  to  hold  them. 

"So!"  I  thought;  "but  three  in  all,  and  one  of 
them  a  servant.  'Twill  be  a  scantly  guested  wed- 
ding." And  then  I  raged  within  again  to  think  of 
how  my  love  should  be  thus  dishonored  in  a  corner 
when  she  should  have  the  world  to  clap  its  Hands 
and  praise  her  beauty. 


72         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

At  that,  and  while  I  looked,  the  lawn  was  banded 
farther  on  by  two  broad  beams  of  light ;  and  then  I 
knew  my  time  was  come. 

Feeling  my  way  across  the  darkened  chamber  I 
softly  tried  the  door-latch.  It  yielded  at  the  touch, 
but  not  the  door.  I  pulled,  and  braced  myself  and 
pulled  again.  'Twas  but  a  waste  of  strength.  The 
door  was  fast  with  that  contrivance  wherewith  my 
father  used  to  bar  me  in  what  time  I  was  a  boy  and 
would  go  raccooning  with  our  negro  hunters.  My 
enemy  was  no  fool.  He  had  been  shrewd  enough 
to  lock  me  in  against  the  chance  of  interruption. 

I  wish  you  might  conceive  the  helpless  horror 
grappling  with  me  there  behind  that  fastened  door ; 
but  this,  indeed,  you  may  not,  having  felt  it  not. 
For  one  dazed  moment  I  was  sick  as  death  with 
fear  an4  frenzy  and  I  know  not  what  besides,  and  all 
the  blackness  of  the  night  swam  sudden  red  before 
my  eyes.  Then,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the 
madness  left  me  cool  and  sane,  as  if  the  fit  had  been 
the  travail-pain  of  some  new  birth  of  soul.  And 
after  that,  as  I  remember,  I  knew  not  rage  nor  haste 
nor  weakness — knew  no  other  thing  save  this ;  that  I 
had  set  myself  a  task  to  do  and  I  would  do  it. 

My  window  was  in  shape  like  half  a  cell  of  honey- 
comb, and  close  beside  it  on  the  outer  wall  there 
grew  an  ancient  ivy-vine  which  more  than  once  had 
held  my  weight  when  I  was  younger  and  would 
evade  my  father's  vigilance. 

I  swung  the  casement  noiselessly  and  clambered 
out,  with  hand  and  foot  in  proper  hold  as  if  those 


RED  WRATH  MAY  HEAL  A  WOUND      73 

youthful  flittings  of  my  boyhood  days  had  been  but 
yesternight.  A  breathless  minute  later  I  was  down 
and  afoot  on  solid  ground ;  and  then  a  thing  chanced 
which  I  would  had  not.  The  man  whom  I  had 
called  a  servant  turned  and  saw  me. 

"Halt !    Who  goes  there  ?"  he  cried. 

"A  friend,"  said  I,  between  my  wishings  for  a 
weapon.  For  this  servant  of  my  prefigurings 
proved  to  be  a  trooper,  booted,  spurred  and  armed. 

"By  God,  I  think  you  lie,"  he  said;  and  after 
that  he  said  no  more,  for  he  was  down  among  the 
horses'  hoofs  and  I  upon  him,  kneeling  hard  io 
scant  his  breath  for  shoutings. 

It  grieves  me  now  through  all  these  years  to 
think  that  I  did  kneel  too  hard  upon  this  man.  He 
was  no  enemy  of  mine,  and  did  but  do — or  seek  to 
do — his  duty.  But  he  would  fight  or  die,  and  I  must 
fight  or  die;  and  so  it  ended  as  such  strivings  will, 
with  some  grim  crackling  of  ribs — and  when  I  rose 
he  rose  not  with  me. 

With  all  the  fierce  excitement  of  the  struggle 
yet  upon  me,  I  stayed  to  knot  the  bridle  reins  upon 
his  arm  to  make  it  plain  that  he  had  fallen  at  his 
post.  That  done,  I  took  his  sword  as  surer  for  my 
purpose  than  a  pistol;  and  hugging  the  deepest 
shadow  of  the  wall,  approached  the  nearer  window. 
It  was  open  wide,  for  the  night  was  sultry  warm, 
and  from  within  there  came  the  clink  of  glass  and 
now  a  toast  and  now  a  trooper's  oath. 

I  drew  myself  by  inches  to  the  casement,  which 
was  high,  finding  some  foothold  in  the  wall;  and 


74         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

when  I  looked  within  I  saw  no  wedding  guests,  no 
priest,  no  altar ;  only  this :  a  table  in  the  midst  with 
bottles  on  it,  and  round  it  five  men  lounging  at  their 
ease  and  drinking  to  the  king.  Of  these  five  two, 
the  baronet  and  the  lawyer,  were  known  to  me,  and 
I  have  made  them  known  to  you.  A  third  I  guessed 
for  Gilbert  Stair.  The  other  two  were  strangers. 


VII 

IN  WHICH  MY  LADY  HATH  NO  PART 

Seeing  that  I  had  taken  a  man's  life  for  this,  the 
chance  of  looking  in  upon  a  drinking  bout,  you  will 
not  wonder  that  I  went  aghast  and  would  have  fled 
for  very  shame  had  not  a  sudden  weakness  seized 
me.  But  in  the  midst  I  heard  a  mention  of  my  name 
and  so  had  leave,  I  thought,  to  stay  and  listen. 

It  was  one  of  the  late-comers  who  gave  me  this 
leave ;  a  man  well  on  in  years,  grizzled  and  weather- 
beaten  ;  a  seasoned  soldier  by  his  look  and  garb. 
Though  his  frayed  shoulder-knot  was  only  that  of 
a  captain  of  foot,  'twas  plain  enough  he  ranked  his 
comrade,  and  the  knight  as  well. 

"You  say  you've  bagged  this  Captain  Ireton? 
Who  may  he  be  ?  Surely  not  old  Roger's  son  ?" 

"The  same,"  said  the  baronet,  shortly,  and  would 
be  filling  his  glass  again.  He  could  always  drink 
more  and  feel  it  less  than  any  sot  I  ever  knew. 

"But  how  the  devil  came  he  here?  The  last  I 
knew  of  him — 'twas  some  half-score  years  ago, 
though,  come  to  think — he  was  a  lieutenant  in  the 
Royal  Scots." 

75 


76         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

Mine  enemy  nodded.  "So  he  was.  But  after- 
ward he  cut  the  service  and  levanted  to  the  Conti- 
nent." 

The  questioner  fell  into  a  muse ;  then  he  laughed 
and  clapped  his  leg. 

"Ecod!  I  do  remember  now.  There  was  a 
damned  good  mess-room  joke  about  him.  When  he 
was  in  the  Blues  they  used  to  say  his  solemn  face 
would  stop  a  merry-making.  Well,  after  he  had 
been  in  Austria  a  while  they  told  this  on  him ;  that 
his  field-marshal  had  him  listed  for  a  majority,  and 
so  he  was  presented  to  the  empress.  But  when 
Maria  Theresa  saw  him  she  shrieked  and  cried  out, 
'II  est  le  pere  aux  fetes  rondes,  lui-meme!  Le  portez- 
vous  dehors!'  So  he  got  but  a  captaincy  after  all; 
ha!  ha!  ha!" 

Now  this  was  but  a  mess-room  gibe,  as  Ke  had 
said,  cut  out  of  unmarred  cloth,  at  that.  Our  Aus- 
trian Maria  ever  had  a  better  word  than  "round- 
head" for  her  soldiers.  But  yet  it  stung,  and  stung 
the  more  because  I  had  and  have  the  Ireton  face, 
and  that  is  unbeloved  of  women,  and  glum  and 
curst  and  solemn  even  when  the  man  behind  it 
would  be  kindly.  So  when  they  laughed  and  chuck- 
led at  this  jest,  I  lingered  on  and  listened  with  the 
better  grace. 

"What  brought  him  over-seas,  Sir  Francis?" 
'Twas  not  the  grizzled  jester  who  asked,  but  the 
younger  officer,  his  comrade. 

Falconnet  smiled  as  one  who  knows  a  thing  and 
will  not  tell,  and  turned  to  Gilbert  Stair. 


MY   LADY   HATH    NO    PART          77 

''What  was  it,  think  you,  Mr.  Stair?"  he  said, 
passing  the  question  on. 

At  this  they  all  looked  to  the  master  of  Appleby 
Hundred,  and  I  looked,  too.  He  was  not  the  man 
I  should  have  hit  upon  in  any  throng  as  the  reaver 
of  my  father's  estate;  still  less  the  man  who  might 
be  Margery's  father.  He  had  the  face  of  all  the 
Stairs  of  Ballantrae  without  its  simple  Scottish  rug- 
gedness ;  a  sort  of  weasel  face  it  was,  with  pale- 
gray  eyes  that  had  a  trick  of  shifty  dodging,  and 
deep-furrowed  about  the  mouth  and  chin  with  lines 
that  spoke  of  indecision.  It  was  not  of  him  that 
Margery  got  her  firm  round  chin,  or  her  steadfast 
eyes  that  knew  not  how  to  quail,  nor  aught  of  any- 
thing she  owed  a  father  save  only  her  paternity, 
you'd  say.  And  when  he  spoke  the  thin  falsetto 
voice  matched  the  weak  chin  to  a  hair. 

"I?  Damme,  Sir  Francis,  I  know  not  why  he 
came — how  should  I  know?"  he  quavered.  "Ap- 
pleby Hundred  is  mine — mine,  I  tell  you !  His  title 
was  well  hanged  on  a  tree  with  his  damned  rebel 
father!" 

A  laugh  uproarious  from  the  three  soldiers 
greeted  his  petulant  outburst ;  after  which  the  baro- 
net enlightened  the  others. 

"As  you  know,  Captain  John,  Appleby  Hundred 
once  belonged  to  the  rebel  Roger  Ireton,  and  Mr. 
Stair  here  holds  but  a  confiscator's  title.  'Tis  likely 
the  son  heard  of  the  war  and  thought  he  stood  some 
chance  to  come  into  his  own  again." 

"Oh,  aye;  sure  enough,"  quoth  the  elder  officer, 


78         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

tilting  his  bottle  afresh.  And  then:  "Of  course 
he  promptly  'listed  with  the  rebels  when  he  came? 
Trust  Roger  Ireton's  son  for  that." 

My  baronet  wagged  his  head  assentingly  to  this ; 
then  clinched  the  lie  in  words. 

"Of  course;  we  have  his  commission.  He  is  on 
De  Kalb's  staff,  'detached  for  special  duty.'  " 

"A  spy !"  roared  the  jester.  "And  yet  you  haven't 
hanged  him  ?" 

Sir  Francis  shrugged  like  any  Frenchman.  "All 
in  good  time,  my  dear  Captain.  There  were  reasons 
why  I  did  not  care  to  knot  the  rope  myself.  Besides, 
we  had  a  little  disagreement  years  agone  across  the 
water;  'twas  about  a  woman — oh,  she  was  no  mis- 
tress of  his,  I  do  assure  you!" — this  to  quench  my 
jester's  laugh  incredulous.  "He  was  keen  upon  me 
for  satisfaction  in  this  old  quarrel,  and  I  gave  it 
him,  thinking  he'd  hang  the  easier  for  a  little  blood- 
ing first." 

Here  the  factor-lawyer  cut  in  anxiously.  "But 
you  will  hang  him,  Sir  Francis?  You've  promised 
that,  you  know." 

I  did  not  hate  my  enemy  the  more  because  he 
turned  a  shoulder  to  this  little  bloodhound  and  quite 
ignored  the  interruption. 

"So  we  fought  it  out  one  morning  in  Mr.  Stair's 
wood-field,  and  he  had  what  he  came  for.  Not  to 
give  him  a  chance  to  escape,  we  brought  him  here, 
and  as  soon  as  he  is  fit  to  ride  I'll  send  him  to  the 
colonel.  Tarleton  will  give  him  a  short  shrift,  I 


MY   LADY   HATH    NO    PART          79 
t 

promise  you,  and  then" — this  to  the  master  of  Ap- 
pleby  Hundred — "then  your  title  will  be  well  qui- 
eted, Mr.  Stair." 

At  this  the  weather-beaten  captain  roared  again 
and  smote  the  table  till  the  bottles  reeled. 

"I  say,  Sir  Frank,  that's  good — damned  good! 
So  you  have  him  crimped  here  in  his  own  house, 
stuffing  him  like  a  penned  capon  before  you  wring 
his  neck.  Ah!  ha!  ha!  But  'tis  to  be  hoped  you 
have  his  legs  well  tied.  If  he  be  any  son  of  my 
old  mad-bull  Roger  Ireton,  you'll  hardly  hang  him 
peacefully  like  a  trussed  fowl  before  the  fire." 

The  baronet  smiled  and  said :  "I'll  be  your  war- 
rant for  his  safety.  We've  had  him  well  guarded 
from  the  first,  and  to-night  he  is  behind  a  barred 
door  with  Mr.  Stair's  overseer  standing  sentry  be- 
fore it.  But  as  for  that,  he's  barely  out  of  bed  from 
my  pin-prick." 

Having  thus  disposed  of  me,  they  let  me  be  and 
came  to  the  graver  business  of  the  moment,  with'  a 
toast  to  lay  the  dust  before  it.  It  was  Falconnet 
who  gave  the  toast. 

"Here's  to  our  bully  redskins  and  their  king — 
How  do  you  call  him,  Captain  Stuart?  Ocon — 
Ocona— " 

"Oconostota  is  the  Chelakee  of  it,  though  on  the^ 
border  they  know  him  better  as  'Old  Hop.'  Fill  up, 
gentlemen,  fill  up;  'tis  a  dry  business,  this.  Allow 
me,  Mr.  Stair ;  and  you,  Mr.  — er — ah — Pengarden. 
This  same  old  heathen  is  the  king's  friend  now,  but,' 


8o 

gentlemen  all,  I  do  assure  you  he's  the  very  devil 
himself  in  a  copper-colored  skin.  'Twas  he  who 
ambushed  us  in  '60,  and  but  for  Attakullakulla — " 

"Oh,  Lord!"  groaned  Falconnet.  "I  say,  Cap- 
tain, drown  the  names  in  the  wine  and  we'll  drink 
them  so.  "Tis  by  far  the  easiest  way  to  swallow 
them." 

By  this,  the  grizzled  captain's  mention  of  the  old 
Fort  Loudon  massacre,  I  knew  him  for  that  same 
John  Stuart  of  the  Highlanders  who,  with  Captain 
Damare,  had  so  stoutly  defended  the  frontier  fort 
against  the  savages  twenty  years  before ;  knew  him 
and  wondered  I  had  not  sooner  placed  him. 
When  I  was  but  a  boy,  as  I  could  well  remember,  he 
had  been  king's  man  to  the  Cherokees ;  a  sort  of  go- 
between  in  times  of  peace,  and  in  the  border  wars 
a  man  the  Indians  feared.  But  now,  as  I  was  soon 
to  learn,  he  was  a  man  for  us  to  fear. 

"  'Tis  carried  through  at  last,"  he  went  on,  when 
the  toast  was  drunk.  And  then  he  stopped  and  held 
up  a  warning  finger.  "This  business  will  not  brook 
unfriendly  ears.  Are  we  safe  to  talk  it  here,  Mr. 
Stair?" 

It  was  Falconnet  who  answered. 

"Safe  as  the  clock.  You  passed  my  sentry  in  the 
road?" 

"Yes." 

"He  is  the  padlock  of  a  chain  that  reaches  round 
the  house.  Let's  have  your  news,  Captain." 

"As  I  was  saying,  the  Indians  are  at  one  with  us. 
'Twas  all  fair  sailing  in  the  council  at  Echota ;  the 


MY   LADY   HATH   NO    PART          81 

Chelakees  being  to  a  man  fierce  enough  to  dig  tHe 
hatchet  up.  But  I  did  have  the  devil's  own  teapot 
tempest  with  my  Lord  Charles.  He  says  we  have 
more  friends  than  enemies  in  the  border  settlements, 
and  these  our  redskins  will  tomahawk  them  all 
alike." 

I  made  a  mental  note  of  this  and  wondered  if  my 
Lord  Cornwallis  had  met  with  some  new  change  of 
heart.  He  was  not  over-squeamish  as  I  had  known 
him.  Then  I  heard  the  baronet  say : 

"But  yet  the  thing  is  done  ?" 

"As  good  as  done.  The  Indians  are  to  have  pow- 
der and  lead  of  us,  after  which  they  make  a  sudden 
onfall  on  the  over-mountain  settlements.  And  that 
fetches  us  to  your  part  in  it,  Sir  Frank ;  and  to 
yours,  Mr.  Stair.  Your  troop,  Captain,  will  be  the 
convoy  for  this  powder;  and  you,  Mr.  Stair,  are 
requisitioned  to  provide  the  commissary." 

There  was  silence  while  a  cat  might  wink,  and 
then  Gilbert  Stair  broke  in  upon  it  shrilly. 

"I  can  not,  Captain  Stuart;  that  I  can  not!"  he 
protested,  starting  from  his  chair.  "  'Twill  ruin  me 
outright !  The  place  is  stripped, — you  know  it  well, 
Sir  Francis, — stripped  bare  and  clean  by  these  thiev- 
ing rebel  militia-men ;  bare  as  the  back  of  your  hand, 
I  tell  you!  I—" 

But  the  captain  put  him  down  in  brief. 

"Enough,  Mr.  Stair;  we'll  not  constrain  you 
against  your  will.  But  'tis  hinted  at  headquarters 
that  you  are  but  a  fair-weather  royalist  at  best — nay, 
that  for  some  years  back  you  have  been  as  rebel  as 


82 

the  rest  in  this  nesting-place  of  traitors.  As  a  friend 
— mind  you,  as  a  friend — I  would  advise  you  to  find 
the  wherewithal  to  carry  out  my  Lord's  commands. 
Do  you  take  me,  Mr.  Stair?" 

The  trembling  old  man  fell  back  in  his  chair,  nod- 
ding his  "yes"  dumbly  like  a  marionette  when  the 
string  has  been  jerked  a  thought  too  violently,  and 
his  weasel  face  was  moist  and  clammy.  I  know  not 
what  double-dealing  he  would  have  been  at  before 
this,  but  it  was  surely  something  with  the  promise 
of  a  rope  at  the  publishing  of  it. 

So  he  and  his  factor  fell  to  ciphering  on  a  bit  of 
paper,  reckoning  ways  and  means,  as  I  took  it,  while 
Falconnet  was  asking  for  more  particular  orders. 

"You'll  have  them  from  headquarters  direct," 
said  Stuart.  "Oconostota  will  furnish  carriers,  a 
Cherokee  escort,  and  guides.  The  rendezvous  will 
be  hereabouts,  and  your  route  will  be  the  Great 
Trace." 

"Then  we  are  to  hold  on  all  and  wait  still  longer  ?" 

"That's  the  word :  wait  for  the  Indians  and  your 
cargo." 

Falconnet's  oath  was  of  impatience. 

"We've  waited  now  a  month  and  more  like  men 
with  halters  round  their  necks.  The  country  is 
alive  with  rebels." 

Whereupon  Captain  Stuart  began  to  explain  at 
large  how  the  northern  route  had  been  chosen  for  its 
very  hazards,  the  better  to  throw  the  partizans  off 
the  scent.  I  listened,  eager  for  every  word,  but 
when  the  horses  stirred  behind  me  I  was  set  back 


MY   LADY   HATH    NO   PART          83 

upon  the  oft-recurrent  under-thought  of  how  the 
gloom  did  also  hide  a  silent  figure  lying  prone,  with 
the  three  bridle  reins  knotted  round  its  wrist. 

But  though  the  unnerving  under-thought  would 
not  begone,  the  scene  within  the  great  room  held  me 
fast  by  eye  and  ear.  The  master  and  his  factor  sat 
apart,  their  heads  together  over  the  knotty  problem 
of  subsistence  for  the  convoy  troop.  At  the  table- 
end,  with  the  bottle  gurgling  now  at  one  right  hand 
and  now  at  another,  the  three  king's  men  drank 
confusion  to  the  rebels,  and  in  the  intervals  discussed 
the  powder-convoy's  route  across  the  mountains. 
The  senior  plotter  had  some  map  or  chart  of  his  own 
making,  and  he  was  pricking  out  on  it  for  Falconnet 
the  route  agreed  upon  in  council  with  the  Cherokees. 

At  this  cool  outlaying  of  the  working  plan,  some 
proper  sense  of  what  this  plot  of  savage-arming 
meant  to  every  undefended  cabin  on  the  frontier 
seized  and  thrilled  me.  I  knew,  as  every  border- 
born  among  us  knew,  the  dismal  horrors  of  an 
Indian  massacre ;  and  this  these  men  were  planning 
was  treacherous  murder  on  an  unwarned  people. 
All  was  to  be  done  in  midnight  secrecy.  Supplied 
with  ammunition,  the  Cherokees,  led  by  this  Captain 
Stuart  or  some  other,  were  first  to  fall  upon  the 
over-mountain  settlements.  These  laid  waste,  the 
Indians  were  to  form  a  junction  with  the  army  of 
invasion,  and  so  to  add  the  torch  and  tomahawk  and 
scalping  knife  to  British  swords  and  muskets. 

It  was  a  plot  to  make  the  blood  run  cold  in  my 
veins,  or  in  the  veins  of  any  man  who  knew  the 


84         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

cruel  temper  of  these  savages ;  and  when  I  thought 
upon  the  fate  of  my  poor  countrymen  beyond  the 
mountains,  I  saw  what  lay  before  me. 

The  settlers  must  be  warned  in  time  to  fight  or  fly. 

But  while  I  listened,  with  every  faculty  alert  to 
reckon  with  the  task  of  rescue,  I  take  no  shame  in 
saying  that  the  problem  balked  me.  Lacking  the 
strength  to  mount  and  ride  in  my  own  proper  per- 
son, there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  find  a  messen- 
ger ;  and  who  would  he  be  in  a  region  at  the  moment 
distraught  with  war's  alarums,  and  needing  every 
man  for  self-defense? 

At  that,  I  thought  of  Jennifer.  True,  he  was 
wounded,  too ;  but  he  would  know  how  best  to  pass 
the  word  to  those  in  peril.  I  made  full  sure  he'd 
find  a  way  if  I  could  reach  him ;  and  when  I  had  it 
simmered  down  to  this,  the  problem  simplified  itself. 
I  must  have  speech  with  Dick  before  the  night  was 
out,  though  I  should  have  to  crawl  on  hands  and 
knees  the  half-score  miles  to  Jennifer  House. 

Having  decided,  I  was  keen  to  be  about  it  while 
the  night  should  last — the  friendly  darkness,  and 
some  fine  flush  of  excitement  which  again  had  come 
at  need  to  take  the  place  of  healthful  vigor.  But 
when  I  would  have  quit  the  window  to  begone  upon 
my  errand  a  sober  second  thought  delayed  me.  If 
my  simple  counterplot  should  fail,  some  knowledge 
of  the  powder-convoy's  route  would  be  of  prime 
importance.  Lacking  the  time  to  warn  the  over- 
mountain  men,  the  next  best  thing  would  be  to  set' 
some  band  of  patriot  troopers  upon  the  trail  and 


MY   LADY   HATH    NO    PART          85 

so  to  overtake  the  convoy.  Nay,  on  this  second 
thought's  rehearsing  the  last  expedient  seemed  the 
better  of  the  two,  since  thus  the  plot  would  come  to 
naught  and  we  would  be  the  gainers  by  the  capture 
of  the  powder. 

So  now  you  know  why  I  should  stick  and  hang  by 
toe  and  finger-tip  and  glare  across  the  little  space 
that  gaped  between  my  itching  fingers  and  the  bit 
of  parchment  passed  from  hand  to  hand  around  the 
table's  end.  If  I  could  make  a  shift  to  rob  them  of 
this  map — 

It  was  a  desperate  chance,  but  in  the  frenzy  of 
the  moment  I  resolved  to  take  it.  Their  placings 
round  the  table  favored  me.  Gilbert  Stair  and  the 
lawyer  sat  fair  across  from  me,  but  they  were  still 
intent  upon  their  figurings.  Of  the  trio  at  the  table's 
end,  the  baronet  and  the  captain  had  their  backs  to 
me.  The  younger  officer  sat  across,  and  he  was 
staring  broadly  at  my  window,  though  with  wine- 
fogged  eyes  that  saw  not  far  beyond  the  bottle-neck, 
I  thought. 

My  one  hope  hinged  upon  the  boldness  of  a  dash. 
If  I  could  spring  within  and  sweep  the  two  candle- 
sticks from  the  table,  there  was  a  chance  that  I 
might  snatch  the  parchment  in  the  darkness  and 
confusion  and  escape  as  I  had  come. 

So  I  began  by  inches  to  draw  me  up  and  feel  for 
some  better  launching  hold.  But  in  the  midst,  for 
all  my  care  and  caution,  I  slipped  and  lost  my  grip 
upon  the  casement ;  lost  that  and  got  another  on  the 
wooden  shutter  opened  back  against  the  outer  wall, 


86         THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

and  then  went  down,  pulling-  the  shutter  from  its 
rusted  hinges  in  crashing  clamor  fit  to  rouse  the 
dead. 

As  if  they  were  quick  echoes,  other  crashings  fol- 
lowed as  of  chairs  flung  back ;  and  then  the  window 
just  above  me  filled  with  crowding  figures.  I  marvel 
that  I  had  the  wit  to  lie  quiet  as  I  had  fallen,  but 
I  had;  and  those  above,  looking  from  a  lighted 
room  into  the  belly  of  the  night,  saw  nothing.  Then 
Captain  Stuart  shouted  to  his  dragoon  horse-holder. 

"Ho!  Tom  Garget;  this  way,  man!"  he  cried; 
and  when  he  had  no  answer,  put  a  leg  across  the 
window  seat  to  clamber  out.  'Twas  in  the  very  act, 
while  I  was  watching  catlike  every  movement,  that 
I  saw  the  precious  scrap  of  parchment  in  his  hand. 

Here  was  the  chance  I  had  prayed  for.  Tom 
Garget's  sword  had  clattered  down  beside  me,  and 
with  it  I  sprang  afoot  and  cut  a  whizzing  circle  by 
my  doughty  captain's  ear  that  made  him  cringe  and 
gasp  and  all  but  tumble  out  upon  me.  The  bit  of 
parchment  fluttered  down  and  in  a  trice  I  had  it 
safe. 

You  may  think  small  of  me,  if  so  you  must,  my 
dears,  when  I  confess  what  followed  after.  No  man 
is  braver  than  his  opportunity,  and  I  had  little  stom- 
ach for  a  fight  with  three  unwounded  men.  Hence 
it  was  narrowed  now  to  a  bold  sortie  for  the  horses, 
and  this  I  made  while  yet  the  captain  hung  in  air 
and  sought  his  foothold. 

With  all  my  breathless  haste  it  was  not  done  too 
soon,  nor  soon  enough.  When  I  had  quickly  freed 


MY   LADY   HATH    NO    PART          87 

a  horse  from  the  dead  hand  that  held  it  tethered, 
and  was  making  shift  to  climb  into  the  saddle,  they 
thronged  upon  me ;  the  captain  from  his  window,  the 
others  pouring  hotly  through  the  gaping  doorway. 

I  made  shift  to  get  astride  the  horse,  to  prick 
the  poor  beast  with  the  point  of  sword,  and  so  to 
break  away  in  some  brief  dash  beneath  the  oaks. 
But  it  was  a  chase  soon  ended.  As  I  remember,  I 
was  reeling  in  the  saddle  what  time  the  foremost 
of  them  overtook  me.  I  held  on  grimly  till  the 
horse  pursuing  lapped  the  one  I  rode  by  head,  by 
neck  and  presently  by  withers.  Then  I  turned  and 
would  be  making  frantic-feeble  passes  with  the 
sword  at  the  man  upon  his  back. 

It  was  my  plotting  captain  who  rode  me  thus  to 
earth;  and  when  I  thrust  he  laughed  and  swore, 
and  turned  the  blade  aside  with  his  bare  hand. 
Then,  pressing  closer,  he  struck  me  with  his  fist, 
and  thereupon  the  night  and  all  its  happenings  went 
blank  as  if  the  blow  had  been  a  cannon  shot  to 
crush  my  skull. 


VIII 

IN  WHICH  I  TASTE  THE  QUALITY  OF  MERCY 

Two  ways  there  be  to  fetch  a  stunned  man  to  his 
senses,  as  they  will  tell  you  who  have  seen  the  rack 
applied :  one  is  to  slack  the  tension  on  the  cracking 
joints  and  minister  cordials  to  the  victim ;  the  other 
to  give  the  straining  winch  a  crueller  twist.  It  was 
not  the  gentler  way  my  captors  took,  as  you  would 
guess;  and  when  I  came  to  know  and  see  and  feel 
again  a  pair  of  them  were  kicking  me  alive,  and  I 
was  sore  and  aching  from  their  bufferings. 

How  long  a  time  came  in  between  my  futile  dash 
for  liberty  and  this  harsh  preface  to  their  dragging 
of  me  back  to  the  manor  house,  I  could  not  tell. 
It  must  have  been  an  hour  or  more,  for  now  a  gib- 
bous moon  hung  pale  above  the  tree-tops,  and  all 
around  were  bivouac  fires  and  horses  tethered  to 
show  that  in  the  interval  a  troop  had  come  and 
camped. 

The  scene  within  the  great  fore-room  of  the  house 
had  been  shifted,  too.  A  sentry  was  pacing  back 
and  forth  before  the  door — a  Hessian  grenadier  by 
the  size  and  shako  of  him;  and  when  the  two 


THE   QUALITY   OF   MERCY  89 

trooper  bailiffs  thrust  me  in,  and  I  had  winked  and 
blinked  my  eyes  accustomed  to  the  candle-light,  I 
saw  the  table  had  been  swept  of  its  bottles  and 
glasses,  and  around  it,  sitting  as  in  council,  were 
some  half-score  officers  of  the  British  light-horse 
with  their  colonel  at  the  head. 

As  it  chanced,  this  was  my  first  sight  near  at  hand 
of  that  British  commander  whose  name  in  after 
years  the  patriot  mothers  spoke  to  fright  their  chil- 
dren. He  did  not  look  a  monster.  As  I  recall  him 
now,  he  was  a  short,  square-bodied  man,  younger 
by  some  years  than  myself,  and  yet  with  an  old 
campaigner's  head  well  set  upon  aggressive  shoul- 
ders. His  eyes  were  black  and  ferrety ;  and  his  face, 
well  seasoned  by  the  Carolina  sun,  was  swart  as  any 
Arab's.  A  man,  I  thought,  who  could  be  gentle- 
harsh  or  harsh-revengeful,  as  the  mood  should 
prompt ;  who  could  make  well-turned  courtier  com- 
pliments to  a  lady  and  damn  a  trooper  in  the  self- 
same breath. 

This  was  that  Colonel  Banastre  Tarleton  who 
gave  no  quarter  to  surrendered  men ;  and  when  I 
looked  into  the  sloe-black  eyes  I  saw  in  them  for  me 
a  waiting  gibbet. 

"So!"  he  rapped  out,  when  I  was  haled  before 
him.  "You're  the  spying  rebel  captain,  eh?  Are 
you  alive  enough  to  hang?'' 

His  lack  of  courtesy  rasped  so  sorely  that  I  must 
needs  give  place  to  wrath  and  answer  sharply  that 
there  was  small  doubt  of  it,  since  I  could  stand  and 
curse  him. 


90         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

He  scowled  at  that  and  cursed  me  back  again  as 
heartily  as  any  fishwife.  Then  suddenly  he  changed 
his  tune. 

"They  tell  me  you  were  in  the  service  once  and 
left  it  honorably.  I  am  loath  to  hang  a  man  who 
has  worn  the  colors.  Would  it  please  you  best  to 
die  a  soldier's  death,  Captain  Ireton  ?" 

I  said  it  would,  most  surely. 

He  said  I  should  have  the  boon  if  I  would  tell 
him  what  an  officer  on  the  Baron  de  Kalb's  staff 
should  know :  the  strength  of  the  Continentals,  the 
general's  designs  and  dispositions,  and  I  know  not 
what  besides.  I  think  it  was  my  laugh  that  made 
him  stop  short  and  damn  me  roundly  in  the  midst. 

"By  God,  I'll  make  you  laugh  another  tune!"  he 
swore.  "You  rebels  are  all  of  a  piece,  and  clemency 
is  wasted  on  you !" 

"Your  mercy  comes  too  dear ;  you  set  too  high  a 
price  upon  it,  Colonel  Tarleton.  If,  for  the  mere 
swapping  of  a  rope  for  a  bullet,  I  could  be  the  poor 
caitiff  your  offer  implies,  hanging  would  be  too 
good  for  me." 

"If  that  is  your  last  word —  But  stay;  I'll  give 
you  an  hour  to  think  it  over." 

1  "It  needs  not  an  hour  nor  a  minute,"  I  replied. 
"If  I  knew  aught  about  the  Continental  army — 
which  I  do  not — I'd  see  you  hanged  in  your  own 
stirrup-leather  before  I'd  tell  you,  Colonel  Tarleton. 
Moreover,  I  marvel  greatly — " 

"At  what?"  he  cut  in  rudely. 

"At   your   informant's   lack   of   invention.     He 


might  have  brought  me  straight  from  General 
Washington's  headquarters  while  he  was  about  it. 
'T would  be  no  greater  lie  than  that  he  told  you." 

He  heard  me  through,  then  fell  to  cursing  me 
afresh,  and  would  be  sending  an  aide-de-camp  hot- 
foot for  Falconnet. 

While  the  messenger  was  going  and  coming  there 
was  a  chance  for  me  to  look  around  like  a  poor 
trapped  animal  in  a  pitfall,  loath  to  die  without  a 
struggle,  yet  seeing  not  how  any  less  inglorious  end 
should  offer.  The  eye-search  went  for  little  of  en- 
couragement ;  there  was  no  chance  either  to  fight  or 
fly.  But  apart  from  this,  the  probing  of  the  shadows 
revealed  a  thing  that  set  me  suddenly  in  a  fever,  first 
of  rage,  an'd  then  of  apprehension. 

As  I  have  said,  this  gathering-room  of  our  old 
house  was  in  size  like  an  ancient  banquet  hall.  It 
had  a  gable  to  itself  in  breadth  and  height,  and  at 
the  farther  end  there  was  a  flight  of  some  few  steps 
to  reach  the  older  portion  of  the  house  beyond.  The 
upper  end  of  this  low  stair  pierced  the  thick  wall  of 
the  older  house,  and  in  the  shadows  of  the  niche 
thus  formed  I  saw  my  lady  Margery. 

She  was  standing  as  one  who  looks  and  listens; 
and  my  rage-fit  blazed  out  upon  the  descrying  of 
a  shadowy  figure  of  a  man  behind  her;  a  man  I 
guessed  in  jealous  wrath  to  be  the  baronet — a  rea- 
sonless suspicion,  since  the  volunteer  captain  would 
certainly  have  made  his  presence  known  when  his 
colonel  had  called  for  him.  But  while  my  heart  was 
yet  afire  my  lady  moved  aside  as  if  to  have  a  better 


92         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

sight  of  us  below ;  and  then  I  saw  it  was  the  priest 
behind  her. 

While  I  was  watching  her,  and  we  were  waiting 
yet  upon  the  aide-de-camp's  return,  there  was  a  stir 
without,  and  when  it  reached  the  door  the  sentry 
challenged.  Some  confab  followed,  and  I  overheard 
enough  to  tell  me  that  a  scouting  party  had  come 
in,  bringing  a  prisoner.  The  colonel  bade  me  stand 
aside,  and  passed  the  word  to  fetch  the  prisoner  be- 
fore him.  When  the  thing  was  done  I  set  my  teeth 
upon  a  groan.  For  it  was  Richard  Jennifer. 

Luckily,  he  did  not  single  me  out  among  the  by- 
standers, being  fresh  come  from  the  night  without 
to  the  glare  of  candle-light  within;  and  while  the 
swart-faced  colonel  plied  him  with  questions  I  had 
a  chance  to  look  him  up  and  down.  Though  his 
arm  was  still  in  its  sling,  he  was  seemingly  the  better 
of  his  wound.  There  was  a  glow  of  health  and 
strength  returning  in  cheek  and  eye,  and  I  thought 
him  handsomer  than  ever  what  time  he  stood  forth 
boldly  and  fronted  down  the  bullying  colonel. 

Knowing  the  Jennifer  stock  and  its  fine  scorn  of 
subterfuge,  I  feared  it  would  go  hard  with  Richard ; 
and  so,  indeed,  it  had  gone,  lacking  a  word  in  sea- 
son from  an  enemy.  When  Tarleton  would  have 
made  him  choose  between  the  taking  of  the  king's 
oath  and  captivity  in  the  hulks  at  Charleston,  a 
burly  Hessian  captain  at  the  table  spoke  the  word 
in  season. 

!  mine  Colonel;  I  vill  know  dis  Mr. 


THE    QUALITY   OF   MERCY  93 

Yennifer.  He  is  a  prave  yoong  schalavags,  and  he 
is  not  gone  out  mit  der  rebels.  Give  him  to  me  for 
mine  plunders." 

The  colonel  laughed  and  showed  his  teeth.  Hav- 
ing one  man  to  hang  he  could  afford  to  be  lenient 
with  another. 

"What  will  you  do  with  him,  Captain  Lauswoul- 
ter?  By  the  look  of  him  he'd  make  but  indifferent 
sausage-meat." 

"Vat  shall  I  do  mit  him  ?  I  shall  make  him  mine 
best  bows  and  send  him  home,  py  Gott !  Ve  did 
had  some  liddle  troubles  mit  der  cards,  and  ven 
mine  foot  was  slipped  on  dis  verdammt  grease- 
grass,  he  did  not  run  me  t'rough  so  like  he  might." 

"Oh ;  an  affair  of  honor  ?  Well,  we'll  count  that 
in  his  favor.  Take  him  away,  Trelawny,  and  quar- 
ter yourself  and  twenty  men  upon  him  at  Jennifer 
House.  You  have  your  parole,  Mr.  Jennifer ;  but  by 
the  Lord,  if  you  break  it  by  so  much  as  a  wink  or  a 
nod,  Trelawny  will  hang  you  to  your  own  ridge- 
pole." 

Given  a  hearing,  Jennifer  would  have  spoiled  it 
all  by  swearing  hotly  he  had  given  no  parole,  but  at 
the  word  the  colonel  roared  him  down  like  a  bull 
of  Bashan,  and  in  the  hubbub  my  brave  lad  was  hus- 
tled out. 

Though  I  was  full  to  bursting  with  my  news 
there  was  nothing  I  could  do;  and  when  it  was 
fairly  over  and  he  was  gone,  I  was  right  glad 
he  had  not  seen  me.  For  I  knew  well  his  steel-true 
loyalty,  and  that  at  sight  of  me  in  trouble  he  would 


94         THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

have  lost  his  slender  chance  of  guarded  liberty,  and 
with"  it  my  last  hope  of  sending  word  across  the 
mountains ;  though,  as  for  that,  the  hope  was  well- 
nigh  dead  at  any  rate. 

While  Jennifer's  guard  and  quota  were  mounting 
at  the  door  the  aide-de-camp  returned,  and  that 
without  the  baronet.  I  caught  but  here  and  there  a 
word  of  his  report ;  enough  to  gather  that  the  cap- 
tain-knight was  not  yet  in  from  posting  out  the 
sentries. 

I  made  no  doubt  his  absence  was  designed.  He 
would  have  Margery  believe  that  he  had  spared  me 
honorably  as  an  enemy  wounded,  and  so  had  left 
me  to  the  tender  mercies  of  his  colonel,  well  assured 
that  Tarleton  would  not  spare  me.  And  this  the 
colonel  did  not  mean  to  do,  as  I  was  now  to  hear  in 
brief. 

"You  put  a  bold  front  on,  Captain  Ireton,  but  'tis 
to  no  purpose,  this  time,"  he  began.  "  'Tis  charged 
against  you  that  you  rode  here  from  the  baron's 
camp  with  your  commission  in  your  pocket,  and 
came  and  went  within  our  lines  like  any  other  spy. 
You  are  a  soldier,  sir,  and  you  know  that's  hanging. 
Yet  I  will  hear  you  if  you've  anything  to  say." 

I  made  so  sure  that  I  should  hang  in  any  case 
that  it  seemed  foolish  to  answer,  and  so  I  saved  my 
breath.  Withal  he  was  the  terror  of  our  Southland, 
this  tyrant  colonel  gave  me  time  to  consider ;  and 
while  he  waited,  grim  and  silent,  the  candles  on  the 
table  guttered  and  ran  down,  and  the  dim  light 


THE   QUALITY   OF   MERCY,  95 

failed  till  I  could  no  longer  see  the  face  of  her  I 
loved  framed  in  the  archway  of  the  stair. 

I  thought  it  hard  that  I  had  seen  my  last  of  her 
'  sweet  face  thus  through  thickening  shadows,  as 
a  dream  might  fade.  Nevertheless,  I  would  be  glad 
that  I  had  seen  her  thus,  since  otherwise,  I  thought, 
I  must  have  gone  without  this  last  or  any  other 
sight  of  her. 

It  was  while  I  was  still  straining  my  eyes  for  one 
more  glimpse  of  her,  and  while  the  court  room 
silence  deepened  dense  upon  us  like  the  shadows, 
that  Colonel  Tarleton  signed  to  those  who  guarded 
me.  A  hand  was  laid  upon  my  shoulder,  but  when 
I  would  have  turned  to  go  with  them  a  woman's 
cry  cut  sharp  into  the  stillness.  Then,  before  any 
one  could  say  a  word  or  think  a  thought,  my  daunt- 
less little  lady  stood  beside  me,  her  eyes  alight  and 
all  her  glorious  beauty  heightened  in  a  blaze  of  gen- 
erous emotion. 

"For  shame!  Colonel  Tarleton,"  she  cried.  "Do 
you  come  thus  into  my  father's  house  and  take  a 
wounded  guest  and  hang  him?  You  say  he  is  a 
spy,  but  that  he  can  not  be,  for  he  has  lain  abed  in 
this  same  house  a  month  or  more.  You  shall  not 
hang  him !" 

'At  this  there  was  a  mighty  stir  about  the  table, 
as  you  may  guess ;  and  some  would  smile,  and  some 
would  snuff  the  candles  for  a  better  sight  of  her 
sweet  face.  And  through  it  all,  the  while  my  heart 
.went  near  to  bursting  at  this  fresh  proof  of  her  most 


96         THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

fearless  loyalty,  I  ground  my  teeth  in  wrath  that  all 
those  men  should  look  their  fill  and  say  by  wink 
and  nod  and  covert  smile  that  this  were  somewhat 
more  than  hostess  loyalty. 

But  it  was  the  colonel's  mocking  smile  that  lashed 
me  sharpest ;  his  smile  and  what  he  said ;  and  yet  not 
that  so  much  as  what  he  left  to  be  inferred. 

"Ha!  How  is  this,  Mistress  Margery?  Do  you 
keep  open  house  for  the  king's  enemies?  That 
spells  treason,  my  dear  young  lady,  and  hath  an 
ugly  look  for  you,  besides." 

"It  should  have  no  look  at  all,  save  that  of  hospi- 
tality, sir,"  she  countered,  bravely.  "Surely  I  may 
plead  for  justice  to  a  wounded  man  who  was,  and  is, 
my  father's  guest?" 

"And  yet  he  is  a  spy,  and  spies  must  hang." 

"He  is  no  spy." 

The  colonel's  bow  made  but  a  mock  of  true  polite- 
ness. 

"You  should  not  make  me  contradict  a  lady,  Mis- 
tress Margery.  'Tis  evident  you  have  not  all  his 
confidence.  He  was  captured  red-handed  in  the  act 
at  yonder  window,  listening  to  that  which  he  may 
never  know  and  live  to  prate  about.  Besides,  he 
killed  a  sentry  for  his  chance  to  listen,  and  for  that 
I'd  hang  him  if  he  were  my  own  father's  guest." 

So  much  he  said  as  mild  as  if  he  had  not  left  his 
reading  of  the  law  to  figure  in  our  annals  as  King 
George's  butcher.  Then  in  a  sudden  gust  of  rage  he 
turned  upon  the  priest,  cursing  him  brutally  and 


THE   QUALITY   OF   MERCY  97 

threatening  vengeance  for  his  bringing  of  the  lady 
to  the  court  room. 

My  brave  one  stood  a  moment,  shocked  as  she 
had  warrant  for.  Then,  before  the  priest  or  I 
or  any  one  could  stop  her,  she  ran  to  throw  herself 
upon  her  knees  at  Colonel  Tarleton's  feet — to  kneel 
and  plead  for  me  as  I  would  gladly  have  died  a 
thousand  deaths  rather  than  have  her  plead ;  for  life 
for  me,  or  if  not  that,  at  least  for  some  brief  respite 
that  the  priest  might  shrive  me. 

And  in  the  end  she  won  the  respite,  though  I  did 
think  it  far  too  dearly  bought.  When  he  granted 
it  the  colonel  lifted  her  and  took  her  hand,  bowing 
low  over  it  with  courtly  deference.  "For  your  sake, 
Mistress  Margery,  it  shall  be  put  off  till  morning," 
he  said ;  then  gave  the  order :  At  dawn  they  would 
march  me  out  and  hang  me,  and  I  would  best  be 
ready.  For  later  than  the  sunrise  of  a  new  day  the 
king  himself  might  not  delay  my  taking  off. 

"You  know  too  much,  my  cursing  Captain,"  was 
his  parting  word.  "Were  it  not  for  Mistress  Mar- 
gery and  my  promise,  you  should  not  keep  the 
breath  to  tell  it  over  night." 


IX 

HOW  X  GOLDEN  KEY  UNLOCKED  £  DOOR 

Having  my  dismissal  and  reprieve  I  was  re- 
manded to  the  custody  of  that  young  Lieutenant 
Tybee  whom  you  have  met  and  known  as  Falcon- 
net's  second  in  the  duel.  Interpreting  his  orders 
liberally,  he  suffered  me  to  keep  my  own  room  for 
the  night.  I  had  expected  manacles  and  a  room- 
mate guard  at  the  least,  but  my  gentlemanly  jailer 
spared  me  both.  When  he  had  me  safe  above-stairs, 
he  barred  the  door  upon  me,  set  a  sentry  pacing 
back  and  forth  in  the  corridor  without,  and  another 
to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  window  from  below,  and  so 
left  me. 

There  was  no  great  need  for  either  sentry,  or  for 
bolts  and  bars.  What  with  the  night's  adventures 
and  my  scarce-healed  wound,  I  was  far  sped  on  that 
road  which  ends  against  the  blind  wall  of  exhaus- 
tion, as  you  may  well  suppose.  For  while  a  man 
may  borrow  strength  of  wine  or  rage  or  passion, 
these  lenders  are  but  pitiless  usurers  and  will  de- 
mand their  pound  of  flesh;  aye,  and  have  it,  too, 
when  all  the  principal  is  spent. 

98 


A'  GOLDEN   KEY  99 

So,  wKen  Tybee  barred  the  door  and  left  me 
with  a  single  candle  to  my  lighting,  I  was  fain  to 
fall  upon  the  bed  in  utter  weariness,  thinking  that 
the  respite  bought  by  my  sweet  lady's  humbling 
was  more  dearly  bought  than  ever,  and  that  the 
truest  mercy  would  have  been  the  rope  and  tree 
without  this  interval  of  waiting. 

To  me  in  this  grim  Doubting  Castle  of  despair 
the  priest  came.  He  was  a  good  man  and  a  true, 
this  low-voiced  missioner  to  the  savages,  and  he 
would  be  a  curster  man  than  I  who  failed  to  give 
him  his  due  meed  of  praise  and  love.  For  in  this 
dismal  interval  of  waiting,  with  death  so  sure  and 
near  that  all  the  air  was  growing  chill  and  lifeless  at 
its  presence,  he  was  a  ready  help  in  time  of  need.  If 
I  were  "heretic"  to  him,  I  swear  I  knew  it  not  for 
aught  he  said  or  did;  and  though  I  trusted  that 
when  my  time  was  come  I  should  stand  forth  with 
some  small  simple-hearted  show  of  courage,  yet 
when  he  went  away  I  felt  I  was  the  stronger  for  his 
coming.  And  this,  mark  you,  though  I  was  still 
unshriven,  and  he  had  never  named  the  churchly 
rite  to  me. 

When  he  was  gone  I  fell  to  wearing  out  the  time 
afoot;  and,  lest  you  think  me  harder  than  I  was, 
it  may  be  said  that  while  I  did  not  make  confes- 
sion to  the  kindly  priest,  I  hope  I  tried  to  make  my 
peace  with  God  in  some  such  simpler  fashion  as 
our  forebears  did.  'Twas  none  so  great  a  matter, 
for  one  who  lives  a  soldier's  life  must  needs  be  ripe 
for  plucking  hastily. 


ioo        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

But  in  the  final  casting  of  accounts  there  was  an 
item  written  down  in  red,  and  one  in  black,  and 
these  would  not  be  scored  across  for  all  the  travail 
of  a  soul  departing.  The  one  in  black  was  bitter 
sorrow  for  the  fate  from  which  I  might  not  live  to 
save  my  loved  one ;  the  one  in  red  was  this ;  that  I 
should  die  and  carry  hence  the  knowledge  that 
might  else  nip  the  Indian  onfall  in  the  bud. 

No  sooner  was  the  priest  away  than  I  began  to 
upbraid  myself  because  I  had  not  told  him  of  this 
British-Indian  murder  plan.  And  yet  on  second 
thought  'twas  clear  that  it  had  been  but  a  poor 
shifting  of  the  burden  to  weaker  shoulders;  and 
thankless,  too,  for  Tarleton  would  be  sure  to  put 
him  on  the  question-rack  to  make  him  tell  of  all 
that  passed  between  us. 

As  I  had  let  him  go,  he  would  have  naught  to 
tell,  and  so  was  safe,  where  otherwise  he  might  be 
hanged  or  buried  in  the  hulks  for  knowing  what 
I  knew.  No,  it  were  best  he  knew  it  not ;  but  how 
was  I  to  rid  me  of  this  burden? — of  this  and  of 
that  other  laid  upon  me  for  my  love? 

The  question  asked  itself  a  many  a  time,  and  was 
as  often  answerless,  before  there  came  a  stir  with- 
out and  voices  in  the  corridor.  It  was  the  chang- 
ing of  the  guard,  I  guessed,  and  so  it  proved,  since 
presently  I  heard  the  clanking  of  the  officer's  sword, 
and  double  footfalls  minishing  into  silence. 

The  sentry  newly  come  paced  back  and  forth 
to  a  low-hummed  quick-step  of  his  own,  bestirring 
himself  as  one  who,  roused  but  now  from  sleep, 

Al  v^i_^        5CHOC 

EL  PASEO  ROAD 
PJM,  CALIFORNIA  ^ 


A   GOLDEN    KEY  101 

would  wake  himself  and  be  alert.  He  made  more 
noise  than  did  the  other,  and  that  is  why  I  marked 
it  when  the  footfalls  ceased  abruptly.  A  moment 
afterward  the  bar  was  lifted  cautiously  from  its 
socket,  the  latch  clicked  gently,  and  the  door  swung 
open.  I  looked,  and  must  needs  look  again  to 
make  assurance  sure.  For  on  the  threshold  stood 
my  lady  Margery,  and  just  behind  her  some  broad 
figure  of  a  woman  whom  I  knew  for  her  stout 
Norman  tiring-maid. 

She  gave  me  little  time  for  any  word  of  welcome 
or  of  deprecation.  While  still  I  stood  amazed 
she  dragged  the  woman  in  with  her  and  closed  the 
door.  At  that  I  found  my  tongue. 

"Margery!  Why  have  you  come?"  I  spoke  in 
French,  and  she  was  quick  to  lay  a  finger  on  her 
lip. 

"Speak  to  me  in  English,  if  you  please,"  she 
whispered.  "Jeanne  knows  nothing,  and  she  need 
not  know.  But  you  ask  why  I  come:  could  I  do 
less  than  come,  dear  friend?" 

I  had  always  marveled  that  she  could  be  so 
mocking  hard  at  times,  and  at  other  times — as 
now — so  soft  and  gentle.  And  though  I  thought 
it  cruel  that  I  should  have  to  fight  my  battle  for  the 
losing  of  her  over  again,  I  had  not  the  heart  to  chide 
her. 

"You  could  have  done  much  less,  dear  lady,"  I 
said,  taking  her  hands  in  mine;  "much  less,  and 
still  be  blameless.  You  have  done  too  much  for  me 
already.  I  would  you  had  not  done  so  much,  I 


102       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY, 

would  to  God  I  had  been  hanged  before  you  went 
upon  your  knees  to  that — " 

'  She  freed  one  hand  and  laid  a  finger  on  my  lip — 
nay,  it  was  her  palm,  and  if  I  took  a  dying  man's 
fair  leave  and  kissed  it  softly,  I  think  she  knew  it 
not. 

"Hush !"  she  commanded.  "Is  this  a  time  to  har- 
bor bitter  thoughts?  I  thought  you  might  have 
other  things  to  say  to  me,  Monsieur  John." 

"There  is  no  other  thing  that  I  may  say." 

"Not  anything  at  all  ?" 

"Naught  but  a  parting  hope  for  you.  I  hope  you 
will  be  true  and  loyal  to  yourself,  Margery  mia" 

"To  myself?     I  do  not  understand." 

"I  think  you  do — I  think  you  must." 

"But  I  do  not." 

I  turned  it  over  more  than  once  in  my  mind 
if  I  should  tell  her  all  I  had  feared;  should  tell 
her  how  I  came  to  kill  a  man  and  was  fair  set 
to  kill  another  had  I  found  a  wedding  afoot  in  the 
great  fore-room.  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  do 
it,  and  yet  I  thought  it  would  go  hard  with  me 
if  I  should  leave  her  still  unwarned. 

"If  I  should  try  to  make  you  understand,  you  will 
be  angry,  as  you  were  before." 

The  wicker  chair  was  close  beside  the  table  and 
she  sat  down.  And  when  she  spoke  she  had  her 
hands  tight-clasped  across  her  knee  and  would  not 
look  at  me. 

"Is  it— about— Sir  Francis?" 


rA  GOLDEN   KEY,  103 

"It  is,"  said  I,  pausing  once  more  upon  the  brink 
of  full  confession. 

She  waited  patiently  for  me  to  speak  further; 
waited  and  let  me  fight  it  out  in  slow  pacings  up 
and  down  before  her  chair.  Without,  the  night  was 
calm  and  still,  and  through  the  opened  casement 
came  the  measured  beat  of  footfalls  on  the  gravel 
where  the  outer  sentry  kept  his  watch  beneath  the 
window.  Within,  the  single  candle  battled  feebly 
with  the  gloom  and  lighted  naught  for  me  save 
my  dear  lady's  face,  pensive  now  and  saintly  sweet 
as  it  had  been  that  morning  when  I  had  dwelt  upon 
it  the  while  she  knew  it  not.  And  in  the  back- 
ground stood  the  sleepy  tire-woman,  giving  no  sign 
of  life  save  now  and  then  a  tortured  yawn  behind 
her  hand. 

I  think  my  lady  must  have  known  how  hard 
it  was  for  me  to  speak,  for,  when  the  silence  had 
grown  overlong,  she  said,  gently:  "I  bought  these 
flying  minutes  of  the  sentry,  Monsieur  John.  Will 
you  not  use  them  ?" 

"If  I  should  say  the  thing  I  ought  to  say,  you'll 
think  the  minutes  dearly  bought,  I  fear." 

"No,  that  I  shall  not,  if  it  will  ease  your  mind." 

"Then  tell  me  why  you  sent  for  Father  Matthieu." 

The  light  was  dim,  as  I  have  said,  yet  I  could  see 
the  faint  flush  spread  from  neck  to  cheek. 

"You  are  not  of  the  Church,  Monsieur  John. 
You  would  not  understand  if  I  should  tell  you." 

"I  think  I  understand  without  your  telling.  You 
said  Sir  Francis  Falconnet  had  asked  for  you." 


104       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"  'Twas  you  who  drove  me  to  say  it." 

"Because  I  tried  to  warn  you  ?" 

"Because  you  would  be  vengeful  when  you  should 
have  been  forgiving." 

"  'Twas  not  revenge,  just  then,  though  while  I 
live  I  shall  have  ample  cause  to  hate  this  man." 

"What  was  it,  then  ?" 

"It  was  love;  love  for  you,  and — and  Richard 
Jennifer." 

She  rose,  and  I  could  see  her  eyes  ashine  for  all 
the  half-gloom  of  the  candle-light. 

"You  are-  a  loyal  friend !"  she  said,  and  there  was 
that  within  the  words  to  make  me  glad,  whatever 
fate  the  dawn  should  have  in  store  for  me.  "You 
always  think  of  others  first;  you  think  of  others 
now,  when — when  death — Oh,  Monsieur  John ! 
what  can  I  do  for  you?  Say  quick!  The  man  is 
coming  to  the  door !" 

"Now  I  have  told  you  this,  there  is  but  one  other 
thing,  Margery  dear;  one  little  thing  that  will  not 
let  me  die  in  peace.  If  I  might  have  ten  words 
with  Richard  Jennifer — " 

She  left  me  in  a  fever-flutter  of  excitement, 
whipped  to  the  door,  and  had  a  word  with  him  who 
stood  without.  I  heard  the  chink  of  coin,  and  then 
she  hastened  back  to  me,  all  eagerness  and  tremu- 
lous impatience. 

"Tell  me — tell  me  instantly  what  I  must  do.  I 
am  not  afraid.  Shall  I  ride  down  to  Jennifer  House 
and  fetch  Dick  here  ?" 

"He  is  a  prisoner,  and  if  he  were  not,  they  would 


A   GOLDEN   KEY  105 

not  let  him  see  me.  Besides,  I  would  not  let  you 
go  on  such  an  errand.  And  yet — God  help  me, 
Margery !  there  is  many  an  innocent  life  hanging 
on  this ;  the  lives  of  helpless  women  and  little  chil- 
dren. Have  you  ever  a  messenger  to  send,  a  man 
who  will  risk  his  life  and  can  be  trusted  fully  ?" 

"Yes,  yes!"  she  cried.  "Write  it  down  for  me 
and  Dick  shall  have  it.  Quick;  for  Our  Lady's 
sake,  be  quick  about  it!  O  Sancta  Maria,  mater 
Dei—" 

The  low  impassioned  chant  of  the  Roman  litany 
was  ringing  in  my  ears  as  I  sat  down  to  the  table 
to  write  my  message  to  Richard  Jennifer.  There 
were  quills  and  an  ink-pot  at  hand,  but  no  paper. 
I  felt  mechanically  in  my  pocket  and  found,  not 
some  old  letter,  as  I  hoped,  but  the  crumpled  parch- 
ment map  snatched  and  hidden  when  Captain  Stuart 
had  winced  and  dropped  it  at  the  bidding  of  the 
whistling  sword  about  his  ears. 

How  it  was  they  had  not  searched  me  for  it,  I 
know  not ;  though  haply  the  captain  did  not  guess 
how  he  had  lost  it.  Be  that  as  it  might,  I  had  it 
safe,  and  Dick  should  have  it  safe,  and  use  it, 
too,  to  some  good  purpose,  as  I  fondly  hoped. 

You'd  hardly  think  from  the  slow  and  clumsy 
spinning  of  this  tale  that  I  could  crowd  the  narra- 
tive of  all  that  I  had  seen  and  heard  into  a  niggard 
three-score  words  or  less.  But  this  I  did,  writing 
them  upon  the  margin  of  the  captain's  map,  and 
noting  in  an  added  line  the  pricking  out  of  the  pow- 
der convoy's  route.  And  while  my  pen  was  looping 


io6       .THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYi 

on  the  flourish  to  my  name,  my  eager  little  lady 
seized  the  pounce-box,  sanded  me  the  heavy  trail- 
ings  of  the  quill,  snatched  and  hid  the  parchment  in 
her  bosom,  and  was  gone. 

And  but  for  this;  that  I  heard  tKe  door-latch 
click  behind  her,  and  then  the  heavy  wooden  bar 
fall  into  place,  I  might  have  thought  the  happen- 
ings of  the  hour  the  unsubstantial  fancies  of  a 
dream. 


X 

HOW  A  FORLORN  HOPE  CAME  TO  GRIEF 

Although  I  could  not  hope  to  know  the  outcome 
of  this  desperate  cast  to  speed  the  warning  to  the 
over-mountain  settlements — could  never  live  to 
know  it,  as  I  thought — I  screened  the  candle  and 
stood  beside  the  open  window,  not  to  see  or  hear, 
but  rather  from  the  lack  of  sight  or  sound  to  gather 
some  encouragement.  For  sure,  I  reasoned,  if  Mar- 
gery's messenger  should  fail  to  pass  the  sentries 
there  would  be  clamor  enough  to  tell  me  of  it. 

So  while  the  minutes  of  this  safety-silence  multi- 
plied and  there  was  space  for  sober  after-thought, 
I  fell  to  casting  up  the  chances  of  success.  Now 
that  Margery  was  gone,  and  with  her  all  the  fine 
enthusiasm  that  such  devoted  souls  as  hers  do  al- 
ways radiate,  it  was  plain  enough  that  nothing  less 
than  a  miracle  could  bring  success.  Tarleton's 
Legion  was  made  up  of  veterans  schooled  well 
in  border  warfare,  and  though  the  bivouac  seemed 
but  a  camp  of  motionless  figures  fast  mana- 
cled in  sleep — I  could  see  them  strewn  like  dead 
men  round  the  smoldering  fires — I  made  no  doubt 
107 


io8       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

the  sentries  were  alert  and  wakeful.  How  then  was 
any  messenger  of  Margery's  to  pass  the  lines,  or, 
passing  them,  to  come  at  Jennifer,  who  by  this  time 
would  be  at  Jennifer  House,  a  prisoner  in  all  but 
name? 

Chewing  such  wormwood  thoughts  as  these,  I 
watched  and  listened  while  the  measured  minutes, 
circling  slow  on  leaden  wings,  pecked  at  my  heart 
in  passing,  and  despair,  cold  like  a  winter  fog, 
had  chilled  me  to  the  bone.  For  now  it  came  to 
me  that  while  I  would  be  saving  life,  mayhap  I 
had  been  periling  it  again.  There  was  small  doubt 
that  if  the  messenger  were  taken  with  my  letter, 
his  life  would  pay  the  forfeit.  And  if  the  fear  of 
death  should  make  him  tell  who  sent  him  and  to 
whom  he  was  sent, — I  had  been  careful  so  to  word 
the  letter  as  to  shield  my  correspondent, — both  Mar- 
gery and  Dick  would  be  involved. 

'Tis  worthy  of  remark  how,  building  on  the  sim- 
plest supposition,  we  seldom  prophesy  aright.  For 
all  my  fine-spun  theories  the  manner  of  the  thing 
that  happened  was  all  unlike  the  forecast.  Suddenly, 
and  in  silence,  out  of  the  ghostly  shadows  of  the 
trees  and  into  the  wan  moonlight  of  the  open  space 
beneath  my  window,  with  neither  shout  nor  crash 
of  sentry-gun  to  give  me  warning,  came  three  fig- 
ures riding  abreast — a  man  in  trooper  trappings  on 
either  hand,  and  on  the  led  horse  sandwiched  in 
between,  a  woman. 

You  may  believe  my  heart  went  cold  at  the  sight. 
I  knew  at  once  what  she  had  done — this  fearless 


HOPE   CAME   TO    GRIEF  109 

maid  who  would  be  loyal  to  her  friend  at  any  cost. 
Having  no  messenger  she  could  trust — she  knew  it 
well  when  she  had  promised  me — she  had  taken  the 
errand  upon  herself,  braving  a  hazard  that  would 
have  daunted  many  a  man. 

I  thought  the  worst  had  surely  now  befallen, 
and  wished  a  hundred  times  that  I  had  died  before 
it  came  to  this.  But  there  was  worse  in  store.  Her 
captors  passed  the  word  while  yet  I  looked  and 
choked  with  rage  and  grief;  and  then  the  bivouac 
buzzed  alive,  and  men  came  running,  some  with 
'arms  and  some  with  torches,  these  last  to  flash  the 
light  upon  her  and  to  jeer  and  laugh.  At  length — 
it  seemed  an  age  to  me — an  officer  appeared  to 
flog  the  rabble  into  order ;  then  she  was  taken  from 
her  horse  and  led  into  the  house. 

Anon  the  windows  of  the  great  fore-room  flung 
bands  of  yellow  torchlight  out  upon  the  lawn,  and 
I  knew  that  Tarleton's  court  was  set  again.  At 
that  the  pains  of  hell  gat  hold  upon  me  and  I  did 
pray  as  I  had  never  prayed  before  that  God  would 
grant  me  this  one  boon — to  stand  beside  her  in  this 
time  of  trial;  to  give  me  tongue  of  eloquence  to 
tell  them  all  that  she  was  innocent;  to  give  me 
breath  to  swear  she  knew  not  why  she  went,  or  what 
the  message  was  she  carried. 

Yours  is  a  skeptic  age,  my  dears,  and  you  have 
learned  to  scoff  at  things  you  do  not  understand. 
But,  so  long  as  I  shall  live,  I  must  believe  that 
agonizing  plea  was  answered.  While  yet  the  an- 
guish of  it  wyung  my  §oul  there  came  a  hasty 


i  io       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYi 

trampling  in  the  corridor,  the  sentry's  challenge, 
and  then  a  quick  unbarring  of  the  door.  I  turned 
upon  my  heel  to  face  a  young  ensign  come  witK  two 
men  at  his  back  to  take  me  to  the  colonel. 

They  bound  me  well  and  strongly  with  many 
wrappings  of  stout  cord  before  they  led  me  down. 
Nor  must  you  think  me  broken-spirited  because  I 
let  them.  In  any  other  cause  but  this  I  hope  I  should 
have  fought  to  die  unmanacled ;  but  now  I  suffered 
gladly  this  little,  seeing  I  had  made  my  dear  lady 
suffer  so  greatly. 

When  we  were  come  into  the  room  below  they 
let  me  stand  beside  her,  as  I  had  prayed  God  they 
might ;  and  when  I  stole  a  glance  at  her  I  was  fain 
to  think  my  coming  gave  her  courage  and  support. 
For  you  must  know  the  place  was  fair  alive  with 
men,  and  flaring  light  with  torches;  and  they  had 
never  offered  her  a  chair. 

The  colonel  stood  apart,  the  center  of  a  group  of 
officers,  and  Falconnet  was  with  him.  Hovering 
on  the  edges  of  the  group,  as  if  afraid  to  show  them- 
selves too  boldly  in  such  a  coil,  were  Gilbert  Stair 
and  that  smooth  parchment-visaged  knave,  his  fac- 
tor. The  while  they  thrust  me  forth  to  take  my 
place  at  Margery's  side,  the  good  old  priest  came 
and  would  have  joined  us ;  but  they  would  not  suffer 
him. 

So  we  two  stood  alone  together  as  we  had  stood 
before ;  but  now  my  lady's  eyes  were  downcast,  and 
her  lips  and  cheeks  were  pale.  Yet  she  was  more 
beautiful  than  I  had  ever  seen  her — so  beautiful 


HOPE   CAME   TO   GRIEF  fin 

that  I  would  swear  the  sum  of  all  the  precious  gifts 
in  God's  great  universe  might  be  expressed  for  me 
in  this ;  that  I  might  die  to  save  her  from  this  shame 
and  agony. 

When  my  guards  had  thrust  me  forward,  the 
colonel  made  short  work  of  our  fresh  offense. 

"  'Twas  a  dastard's  trick,  my  Captain — this  tang- 
ling of  the  lady  in  your  treason,"  he  began.  "How 
did  you  get  your  speech  with  her?" 

"That  is  none  of  your  affair,  Colonel  Tarleton," 
I  retorted  boldly,  thinking  that  with  such  a  man  the 
shortest  word  were  ever  the  best.  "Yet  I  may  say 
that  the  lady  knew  not  what  she  did,  nor  why.  As 
for  my  getting  speech  with  her,  she  was  not  any  way 
to  blame.  I  tampered  with  your  sentry." 

"By  God,  you  lie!"  was  his  comment  on  this. 
"She  might  have  tampered  with  the  guard  and  so 
got  leave  to  keep  a  midnight  tryst  with  you,  but 
not  you."  And  then  to  my  poor  frighted  love: 
"Have  you  no  shame,  Mistress  Margery  Stair?" 

Now  I  have  said  that  she  was  changeful  as  any 
child  or  April  sky,  but  never  had  I  seen  her  pass 
from  mood  to  mood  as  she  did  then.  One  moment 
she  stood  a  woman  tremulous  and  tearful  as  any 
woman  caught  in  desperate  deed ;  tlie  next  she  be- 
came a  goddess  vilified,  and  if  her  look  had  been 
a  dagger  I  think  her  flashing  eyes  had  killed  him 
where  he  stood. 

"You've  found  a  way  to  make  me  speak,  sir, 
and  I  wish  you  joy  of  it.  'Twas  I  who  bribed  your 
sentry,  and  I  did  go  to  Captain  Ireton's  room." 


The  colonel  laughed  and  shot  a  gibe  sharp  at 
my  enemy. 

"How  is  this,  Sir  Francis.  Did  I  not  tell  you 
you  had  thrust  an  inch  or  so  too  high?  By  God, 
sir,  I  think  you  will  come  over-late,  if  ever  you 
do  come  at  all.  This  captain-emeritus  hath  fore- 
stalled you  beautifully." 

As  more  than  once  before  in  this  eventful  night, 
the  air  went  flaming  red  before  my  eyes  and  help- 
less wrath  came  uppermost.  I  saw  no  way  to  clear 
her,  and  had  there  been  the  plainest  way,  dumb 
rage  would  still  have  held  me  tongue-tied.  So  I 
could  only  mop  and  mow  and  stammer,  and,  when 
the  words  were  found,  make  shift  to  blunder  out 
that  such  an  accusation  did  the  lady  grievous  wrong ; 
that  she  had  come  attended  and  at  my  beseeching, 
to  take  a  message  from  a  dying  man  to  one  who  was 
his  friend. 

For  my  pains  I  had  a  brutal  laugh  in  payment; 
a  laugh  that,  starting  with  the  colonel,  went  the 
rounds  in  jeering  grins  of  incredulity.  And  on  the 
heels  of  it  the  colonel  swore  afresh,  cursing  me  for 
a  clumsy  liar. 

"A  likely  story,  that!"  he  scoffed.  "Next  you 
will  say  she  knew  not  what  this  message  was." 

"I  said  it  once.  She  knew  not  what  the  message 
was,  nor  why  I  sent  it." 

I  felt  her  eyes  upon  me  as  I  spoke,  and  turned  to 
find  them  full  of  tearful  pleading.  "Oh,  tell  the 
truth!"  she  whispered.  "Don't  you  see?  He  has 
tHe  letter !" 


HOPE   CAME   TO    GRIEF  113 

I  looked,  and  sure  enough  he  held  it  in  his  hand ; 
and  then  I  understood  the  flash  of  irony  in  the  sloe- 
black  eyes  of  him. 

"You  lie  clumsily,  Captain  Ireton,  though  it  is  a 
gentlemanly  lie  and  does  you  honor.  But  we  have 
trapped  you  fairly  and  you  may  as  well  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it.  Your  mistress  knew  very  well 
what  you  would  have  her  do,  and  since  she  is  your 
mistress,  went  to  do  it." 

While  he  was  speaking  I  had  a  thought  white- 
hot  from  some  forge-fire  of  inspiration — a  thought 
to  tip  an  arrow  of  conviction  and  set  it  quivering 
in  the  mark.  I  would  not  stop  to  measure  it;  to 
look  aside  at  her  or  any  other  lest  one  brief  glance 
apart  should  send  the  arrow  wavering  from  its 
course.  So  I  looked  the  colonel  boldly  in  the  eye 
and  drew  the  bow  and  sped  the  shaft. 

"You  think  no  other  than  a  niistress  would  have 
done  this,  Colonel  Tarleton — that  it  was  done  for 
love  ?  Well,  so  it  was ;  but  with  the  love  there  went 
a  duty." 

"A  duty,  say  you  ?    How  is  that  ?" 

I  bowed  as  best  I  might,  being  so  tightly  bound ; 
then  fixed  his  eye  again. 

"You  had  forgot  that  honor  is  not  wholly  dead, 
sir.  This  lady  is  my  wife." 


HOW  A'  LIE  WAS  MADE  THE  VERY  TRUTH 

For  some  small  instant  I  dared  not  loose  my  eye- 
grip  on  the  colonel,  to  glance  aside  at  Falconnet, 
or  Gilbert  Stair,  or  at  the  woman  close  beside  me. 
If  I  had  flinched  or  wavered,  or  let  an  eyelid  droop 
but  by  the  thickness  of  a  hair,  this  keen-eyed  colonel 
would  have  been  upon  me  to  cut  the  ground  be- 
neath my  feet  and  leave  me  dangling  by  the  lie. 

But  as  it  was,  I  faced  him  down ;  and  winning 
him,  won  all.  There  was  a  muttered  oath  from 
Falconnet,  a  tremulous  cry  of  rage  from  where  her 
father  stood;  and  then  I  sought  my  lady's  eyes  to 
read  my  sentence  in  them. 

She  gave  me  but  a  glance,  and  though  I  tried 
as  I  had  never  tried  before  to  read  her  meaning 
it  was  hid  from  me.  But  this  I  marked;  that  she 
did  draw  aside  from  me,  and  that  her  face  was  cold 
and  still,  and  that  her  lips  were  pressed  together  as 
if  not  all  nor  any  should  ever  make  her  speak 
again. 

At  this  sharp  crisis,  when  a  look  or  word  would 
cost  me  more  than  death  and  my  dear  lady  her 
honor,  it  was  the  colonel  who,  all  unwittingly, 
114 


A   LIE    MADE   THE   VERY   TRUTH    115 

stood  my  friend.  A  breath  of  doubt  upon  my  lie 
and  we  were  lost ;  and  once  I  thought  he  would  have 
breathed  it.  But  he  did  not.  Instead,  he  broke  out 
in  a  laugh,  with  a  gibe  flung  first  at  Gilbert  Stair 
and  then  at  Falconnet. 

"God  save  us!  I  give  you  joy,  Mr.  Stair,  and 
you,  Sir  Francis.  These  two  have  duped  you 
bravely.  By  heavens !  Sir  Frank ;  'twas  you  who 
should  have  had  the  sword  thrust  in  the  duel.  In 
that  event  you  might  have  stood  in  Captain  Ireton's 
shoes,  and  so  had  the  priest  fetched  for  your  bene- 
fit." Then  he  turned  to  Margery  with  a  bow  that 
had  no  touch  of  mockery  in  it.  "I  crave  your 
pardon,  Madam ;  I  knew  not  you  were  pleading  for 
your  husband's  life  an  hour  ago.  It  grieves  me 
that  I  may  not  spare  him  to  you  longer  than  the 
night,  but  war  is  cruel  at  its  best." 

She  stood  like  any  statue  done  in  cold  Carrara 
while  he  spoke;  and  when  she  made  no  sign  he 
gave  the  word  to  recommit  me. 

"Take  him  away,  Lieutenant  Tybee,  and  see  He 
has  a  bribe-proof  man  this  time  to  keep  him  com- 
pany. Madam  Ireton,  I'll  put  you  on  your  honor: 
you  may  have  access  to  him,  but  there  must 
be  no  messages  carried  in  or  out.  To  your  quar- 
ters, gentlemen.  We  must  ride  far  and  hard  to- 
morrow." 

When  his  final  word  had  set  her  free,  my  frozen 
maiden  came  to  life  and  ran  to  throw  herself  in 
helpless  sobbings,  not  upon  her  father,  as  you  would 
think,  but  upon  the  good  priest.  And  it  was  Father 


n6       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

Matthieu  who  led  her,  still  crying  softly,  out  of 
the  throng  and  up  the  low  stair ;  and  now  I  marked 
that  all  the  rough  soldiery  stood  aside  and  made 
way  for  her  with  never  a  man  among  them  to  scoff 
or  sneer  or  point  a  gibe. 

At  her  going,  Tybee  drew,  his  sword  and  cut  the 
cord  that  bound  me. 

"These  youngling  cubs  are  over-cautious,  Captain 
Ireton.  We  shall  not  make  it  harder  for  each  other 
than  we  must,"  he  said,  with  bluff  good  nature. 
And  then:  "Will  you  lead  the  way  to  your  room, 
sir?" — this  to  give  the  youngling  cub  another  les- 
son, I  suppose. 

I  walked  beside  him  to  the  stair,  and  when  I 
stumbled,  being  weak  and  spent,  he  took  my  arm 
and  steadied  me,  and  I  did  think  it  kindly  done. 
At  my  own  door  he  gave  me  precedence  again,  say- 
ing, with  a  touch  of  the  grateful  Old  World  cour- 
tesy, "After  you,  sir,"  and  standing  aside  to  let  me 
enter  first.  When  we  were  both  within  he  touched 
upon  the  colonel's  mandate. 

"I  must  obey  my  orders,  Captain  Ireton,  but  by 
your  good  leave  I  shall  not  lock  you  up  with  any 
trooper;  I'll  stay  with  you  myself." 

I  thought  this  still  more  kindly  than  aught  he 
had  done  before,  and  so  I  told  him.  But  he  put  it 
off  lightly. 

"  'Tis  little  enough  any  one  can  do  for  you, 
my  friend,  but  I  will  do  that  little  as  I  can.  You 
are  like  to  have  a  visitor,  I  take  it;  if  you  have, 


A   LIE   MADE   THE   VERY   TRUTH    117 

I'm  sure  'twill  be  a  comfort  if  your  body-guard 
can  be  stone  blind  and  deaf.'' 

So  saying,  he  dragged  the  big  wicker  chair  into 
the  window-bay,  planted  himself  deep  within  it 
with  his  back  to  all  the  room,  and  so  left  me  to  my 
own  devices. 

Being  spent  enough  to  sleep  beneath  the  shadow 
of  a  gibbet,  I  threw  myself  full-length  upon  the  bed 
and  was,  I  think,  adrift  upon  the  ebb  tide  of  ex- 
haustion and  forgetfulness  when  once  again  the 
shifting  of  the  wooden  door-bar  roused  me.  I  rose 
up  quickly,  but  Tybee  was  before  me.  There  was 
some  low-voiced  conference  at  the  door ;  then  Tybee 
came  to  me. 

"  Tis  Mr.  Gilbert  Stair,"  he  said.  "He  has  per- 
mission from  the  colonel  and  insists  that  he  must 
see  you  solus.  I'll  take  your  word  and  leave  you, 
if  you  like." 

At  first  I  hung  reluctant,  wanting  little  of  the 
host  who  came  so  late  to  see  his  guest.  Then,  as 
if  a  sudden  flash  of  lightning  had  revealed  it,  I 
realized,  as  I  had  not  before,  how  I  had  set  the  feet 
of  my  dear  lady  in  a  most  hideous  labyrinth  of  de- 
ception ;  how  this  lie  that  I  had  told  to  bridge  a 
momentary  gap  must  leave  her  neither  maid  nor 
widow  in  the  morning. 

"Yes,  yes ;  for  God's  sake  let  him  in,  Mr.  Tybee !" 
I  burst  out.  "I  am  fair  crazed  with  weariness,  and 
had  forgot.  'Tis  most  important,  T  do  assure  you." 

The  thing  was  done  at  once,  and  before  I  knew  it 


ii8       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

I  was  alone  with  the  old  man  who,  though  he  was 
my  supplanter,  was  also  Margery's  father.  He  en- 
tered cautiously,  shielding  his  bedroom  candle  with 
his  hand  and  peering  over  it  to  make  me  out,  as  if 
his  venturing  in  were  not  unperilous.  And  I 
marked  that  when  he  put  the  candle  down  upon 
the  table,  he  edged  away  and  felt  behind  him  for 
the  door  as  if  to  make  sure  of  his  retreat  in  case  of 
need. 

"Sit  down,  Captain  Ireton;  sit  down,  I  beg  of 
you,"  he  said,  in  his  thin,  rasping  treble.  And  when 
I  had  obeyed:  "I  think  you  must  know  what  I've 
come  for,  Captain  Ireton?" 

I  said  I  could  guess;  and  he  began  again,  volu- 
bly now,  as  if  to  have  it  over  in  the  shortest  space. 

"  'Twas  not  a  gentlemanly  thing  for  you  to  do, 
Captain  Ireton — this  marrying  of  a  foolish  girl  out 
of  hand  while  you  were  here  a  guest ;  and  as  for  the 
priest  that  did  it,  I — I'll  have  him  hanged  before 
the  army  leaves,  I  promise  you.  But  now  'tis  done, 
I  hope  ye're  prepared  to  make  the  best  of  it?" 

I  saw  at  once  that  his  daughter  had  not  yet 
confided  in  him;  that  he  was  still  entangled  in  my 
lie.  So  I  thought  it  well  to  probe  him  deeper  while 
I  might. 

"What  would  you  call  'the  best/  if  I  may  ask?" 
said  I,  growing  the  cooler  with  some  better  seeing 
of  the  way  ahead. 

"The  marriage  settlements !"  he  cried  shrilly,  com- 
ing to  the  point  at  once,  as  any  miser  would.  "  'Tis 


A   LIE   MADE   THE   VERY  _.  TRUTH    119 

the  merest  matter  of  form,  as  ye  may  say,  for  your 
title  to  Appleby  Hundred  is  well  burnt  out,  I  prom- 
ise you.  But  for  the  decent  look  of  it  you  might 
make  over  your  quitclaim  to  your  wife." 

"Aye,  truly ;  so  I  might." 

"And  so  you  should,  sir ;  that  you  should,  ye  mis- 
erable, spying  runag" — he  choked  and  coughed  be- 
hind his  hand  and  then  began  again  without  the 
epithets.  "  'Tis  the  very  least  ye  can  do  for  her  now, 
when  you  have  the  rope  fair  around  your  curs — 
ahem — your — your  rebel  neck.  Only  for  the  form's 
sake,  to  be  sure,  ye  understand,  for  she'd  inherit 
after  you  in  any  case." 

I  saw  his  drift  at  last,  and,  not  caring  to  spare 
him,  sped  the  shaft  of  truth  and  let  it  find  the  joint 
in  his  harness. 

"  'Tis  as  you  say,  Mr.  Stair.  But  as  it  chances, 
Mistress  Margery  is  not  my  wife." 

If  I  had  flung  the  candle  at  him  where  he  stood 
fumbling  behind  him  for  the  door-latch,  'twould  not 
have  made  him  shrink  or  dodge  the  more. 

"Wha — what's  that  ye  say?"  he  piped  in  shrillest 
cadence.  "Not  married?  Then  you — you — " 

"I  lied  to  save  her  honor — that  was  all.  A  wife 
might  do  the  thing  she  did  and  go  scot  free  of 
any  scandal ;  but  not  a  maid,  as  you  could  see  and 
hear." 

For  some  brief  time  it  smote  him  speechless,  and 
in  the  depth  of  his  astoundment  he  forgot  his  foolish 
fear  of  me  and  fell  to  pacing  up  and  down,  though 
always  with*  the  table  cannily  between  us.  And  as  he 


shuffled  back  and  forth  the  thin  lips  muttered  fool- 
ish nothings,  with  here  and  there  a  tremulous  oath. 
When  all  was  done  he  dropped  into  a  chair  and 
stared  across  at  me  with  leaden  eyes ;  and  truly  he 
had  the  look  of  one  struck  with  a  mortal  sickness. 

"I  think — I  think  you  owe  me  something  now 
beyond  your  keeping,  Captain  Ireton,"  he  quavered, 
at  length,  mumbling  the  words  as  do  the  palsied. 

"Since  you  are  Margery's  father,  I  owe  you  any- 
thing a  dying  man  can  pay,"  said  I. 

"Words;  empty  words,"  he  fumed.  "If  it  were 
a  thing  to  do,  now — " 

"You  need  but  name  the  thing  and  I  will  do  it 
willingly." 

Instead  of  naming  it  he  shot  a  question  at  me, 
driving  it  home  with  certain  random  thrustings  of 
the  shifty  eyes. 

"Who  is  your  next  of  kin,  Captain  Ireton  ?" 

"Septimus,  of  the  same  name,  master  of  Ireton- 
dene,  on  the  James  River,  and  a  major  in  the  Vir- 
ginia line,"  I  answered,  wondering  how  my  cousin 
once  removed  should  figure  in  the  present  coil.  But 
Gilbert  Stair's  next  question  dispelled  the  mystery. 

"If  you  should  die  intestate,  this  Septimus  would 
be  your  heir?" 

"As  next  of  kin,  I  should  suppose  he  would.  But 
I  have  nothing  to  devise." 

"True ;  and  yet" — he  paused  again  as  if  the  word- 
ing of  it  were  not  easy. 

"Be  free  to  speak  your  mind,  Mr.  Stair,"  said  I. 


A   LIE   MADE   THE   VERY   TRUTH    121 

"  'Tis  this,"  he  cried,  gathering  himself  as  with 
an  effort.  "You've  claimed  my  daughter  as  your 
wife  before  them  all,  and  when  you  die  to-morrow 
morning  you'll  leave  her  neither  wife  nor  maid. 
I  think — I  think  you'd  best  make  that  lie  of  yours 
the  truth." 

If  one  of  his  thin  hands  that  clutched  the  chair 
arms  had  pressed  a  secret  spring  and  loosed  a  trap 
to  send  me  gasping  down  an  oubliette,  I  should  have 
been  the  less  astounded.  Indeed,  for  some  short 
space  I  thought  him  mad ;  yet,  on  second  thought, 
I  saw  the  method  in  his  madness.  Could  Margery 
be  brought  to  view  it  calmly,  this  was  a  sword  to 
cut  the  knot  of  all  entanglements. 

As  matters  stood,  the  world  would  call  her  widow 
at  my  death;  and  since  a  woman  is  first  of  all  the 
keeper  of  her  own  good  name,  she  would1  never 
dare  aver  the  truth.  So  in  common  justice  she 
should  own  the  name  the  world  would  call  her  by. 
Again,  as  matters  stood,  no  wrong  could  come  of 
it  to  her,  or  Richard  Jennifer,  or  any.  Dick  would 
love  her  none  the  Jess  because  a  dying  man  had 
given  her  his  name  for  some  few  hours.  And  if, 
at  any  future  time,  the  Ireton  title  should  revive 
and  this  poor  double-dealing  miser  should  be  forced 
to  quit  his  hold  on  Appleby  Hundred,  my  father's 
acres  would  be  hers  in  her  own  right.  One  breach  in 
all  this  sudden-builded  wall  I  saw,  but  could  not 
mend  it.  With  the  Ireton  acres  hers  by  double 
right,  the  baronet  would  press  his  suit  with  greater 


122        THE   MASTER   OF,   APPLEBY 

vigor  than  before.  But  as  to  this,  no  further  act 
of  mine  could  help  or  hinder;  and  if  I  died  her 
husband  she  would  in  decency  delay  a  while. 

So  summing  up  in  far  less  time  than  it  has  cost 
to  write  it  out  for  you,  I  gave  my  host  his  answer. 

"I  told  you  you  might  name  the  deed,  and  I  would 
do  it,  Mr.  Stair.  If  you  can  make  your  daughter 
understand — " 

"The  jade  will  do  as  she  is  bid,"  he  cut  in  wrath- 
fully.  "If  she  will  drag  my  good  name  in  the 
mire,  I'm  damned  if  she  sha'n't  pay  the  scot.  And 
now  about  the  settlements,  Captain  Ireton;  you'll 
be  making  her  legatee  residuary  ?" 

At  this  I  saw  his  drift  again,  most  clearly;  that 
he  would  never  stickle  for  his  daughter's  honor, 
but  for  the  quieting  of  his  title  to  my  father's 
lands — a  title  that  my  cousin  Septimus  might  dis- 
pute. It  was  enough  to  set  me  obstinate  against 
him ;  but  I  constrained  myself  to  think  of  Margery 
and  Richard  Jennifer,  and  not  at  all  of  this  poor 
petty  miser. 

"I'll  sign  a  quitclaim  in  her  favor,  if  that  is  what 
you  mean,"  I  said.  "But  'tis  a  mere  pen-scratch 
for  the  lawyers  to  haggle  over.  As  you  said  a  while 
ago,  the  wife  will  be  the  husband's  heir-at-law,  in 
any  event." 

"True;  but  we'd  best  be  at  it  in  due  and  proper 
form."  He  rose  and  hobbled  to  the  door  and  was 
so  set  upon  haste  that  his  shaking  hand  played  a 
rattling  tattoo  on  the  latch.  "I — I'll  go  and  have 
the  papers  drawn,  and  you  will  sign  them,  Captain 


A   LIE    MADE   THE   VERY   TRUTH    123 

Ireton ;  I  have  your  passed  word  that  you  will  sign 
them?" 

"Aye ;  they  shall  be  signed." 

He  went  away  at  that,  and  Tybee  entered.  Much 
to  my  comfort,  the  lieutenant  asked  no  questions; 
so  far  from  it,  He  crossed  the  room  without  a  word, 
flung  himself  into  the  great  chair  and  left  me  to  my 
own  communings. 

These  were  not  altogether  of  assurance.  Though 
I  had  promised  readily  enough  to  make  my  lie  a 
truth,  I  saw  that  all  was  yet  contingent  upon  my 
lady's  viewing  of  the  proposal.  That  I  could  win 
her  over  I  had  some  hope,  if  only  they  would  leave 
the  task  for  me.  But  there  was  room  to  fear  that 
this  poor  miser  father  would  make  it  all  a  thing  of 
property  and  so  provoke  her  to  resistance.  And, 
notwithstanding  what  he  said — that  she  would  do 
as  she  was  bid — I  thought  I  knew  her  temper  well 
enough  to  prophesy  a  hitch.  For  I  made  sure  of 
one  thing,  that  if  she  put  her  will  against  the  world, 
the  world  would  never  move  her. 

'Twas  past  midnight,  with  Tybee  dozing  in  his 
chair,  when  next  I  heard  some  stirrings  in  the  cor- 
ridor. As  before,  it  was  the  lifting  of  the  wooden 
bar  that  roused  my  friendly  guard,  and  when  he 
went  to  parley  at  the  door  I  stood  apart  and  turned 
my  back. 

When  I  looked  again  my  company  was  come. 
At  th'e  table,  busied  with  a  parchment  that  might 
have  been  a  ducal  title  deed  for  size,  stood  Gilbert 
Stair  and  the  factor-lawyer,  Owen  Pengarvin.  A 


124       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

little  back  of  them  the  good  old  Father  Matthieu 
had  Margery  on  his  arm.  And  in  the  corner  Tybee 
stood  to  keep  the  door. 

I  grouped  them  all  in  one  swift  eye-sweep,  and 
having  listed  them,  strove  to  read  some  lesson- 
ing of  my  part  in  my  dear  lady's  face.  She  gave 
me  nothing  of  encouragement,  nor  yet  a  cue  of  any 
kind  to  lead  to  what  it  was  that  she  would  have  me 
say  or  do.  As  I  had  seen  it  last,  under  the  light  of 
the  flaring  torches  in  the  room  below,  her  face  was 
cold  and  still;  and  she  was  standing  motionless 
beside  the  priest,  looking  straight  at  me,  it  seemed, 
with  eyes  that  saw  nothing. 

It  was  the  factor-lawyer  who  broke  the  silence, 
saying,  with  his  predetermined  smirk,  that  the 
parchment  was  ready  for  my  signature.  Thinking 
it  well  beneath  me  to  measure  words  with  this  knav- 
ish pettifogger,  I  looked  beyond  him  and  spoke  to 
his  master. 

"I  would  have  a  word  or  two  in  private  with 
your  daughter  before  this  matter  ripens  further,  Mr. 
Stair,"  I  said. 

My  lady  dropped  the  priest's  arm  and  came  to 
stand  beside  me  in  the  window-bay.  I  offered  her 
a  chair  but  she  refused  to  sit.  There  was  so  little 
time  to  spare  that  I  must  needs  begin  without  pre- 
liminary. 

"What  has  your  father  told  you,  Margery?"  I 
asked. 

"He  tells  me  nothing  that  I  care  to  know." 

"But  he  has  told  you  what  you  must  do  ?" 


A   LIE   MADE   THE   VERY   TRUTH    125 

"Yes."     She  looked  with  eyes  that  saw  me  not. 

"And  you  are  here  to  do  it  of  your  own  free 
will?" 

"No." 

"Yet  it  must  be  done." 

"So  he  says,  and  so  you  say.  But  I  had  rather 
die." 

"  'Tis  not  a  pleasing  thing,  I  grant  you,  Mar- 
gery ;  notwithstanding,  of  our  two  evils  it  is  by  far 
the  less.  Bethink  you  a  moment:  'tis  but  the 
saying  of  a  few  words  by  the  priest,  and  the  bear- 
ing of  my  name  for  some  short  while  till  you  can 
change  it  for  a  better." 

Her  deep-welled  eyes  met  mine,  and  in  them  was 
a  flash  of  anger. 

"Is  that  what  marriage  means  to  you,  Captain 
Ireton?" 

"No,  truly.  But  we  have  no  choice.  'Tis  this, 
or  I  must  leave  you  in  the  morning  to  worse  things 
than  the  bearing  of  my  name.  I  would  it  had  not 
thus  been  thrust  upon  us,  but  I  could  see  no  other 
way." 

"See  what  comes  of  tampering  with  the  truth," 
she  said,  and  I  could  see  her  short  lip  curl  with 
scorn.  "Why  should  you  lie  and  lie  again,  when 
any  one  could  see  that  it  must  come  to  this — or 
worse  ?" 

"I  saw  it  not,"  I  said.  "But  had  I  stopped  to  look 
beyond  the  moment's  need  and  seen  the  end  from 
the  beginning,  I  fear  I  should  have  lied  yet  other 
times.  Your  honor  was  at  stake,  dear  lady/' 


126       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY. 

"My  honor!" — this  in  bitterest  irony.  "What 
is  a  woman's  honor,  sir,  when  you  or  any  man 
has  patched  and  sewed  and  sought  to  make  it  whole 
again?  I  will  not  say  the  word  you'd  have  me 
say!" 

"But  you  must  say  it,  Margery.  'Tis  but  the 
merest  form ;  you  forget  that  you  will  be  a  wife  only 
in  name.  I  shall  not  live  to  make  you  rue  it." 

"You  make  me  rue  it  now,  beforehand.  Man 
Dieu!  is  a  woman  but  a  thing,  to  stand  before  the 
priest  and  plight  her  troth  for  'merest  form'  ?  You'll 
make  me  hate  you  while  I  live — and  after !" 

"You'd  hate  me  worse,  Margery  dear,  if  I  should 
leave  you  drowning  in  this  ditch.  And  I  can  bear 
your  hatred  for  some  few  hours,  knowing  that  if  I 
sinned  and  robbed  you,  I  did  make  restitution  as 
I  could." 

She  heard  me  through  with  eyelids  down  and 
some  fierce  storm  of  passion  shaking  her.  And 
when  she  answered  her  voice  was  low  and  soft; 
yet  it  cut  me  like  a  knife. 

"You  drive  me  to  it — listen,  sir,  you  drive  me  to 
it!  And  I  have  said  that  I  shall  hate  you  for  it. 
Come ;  'tis  but  a  mockery,  as  you  say ;  and  they  are 
waiting." 

I  sought  to  take  her  hand  and  lead  her  forth, 
but  this  she  would  not  suffer.  She  walked  beside 
me,  proud  and  cold  and  scornful;  stood  beside  me 
while  I  sat  and  read  the  parchment  over.  It  was 
no  marriage  settlement ;  it  was  a  will,  drawn  out 
in  legal  form.  And  in  it  I  bequeathed  to  Margery 


A'   LIE   MADE   THE   VERY   TRUTH    127 

Ireton  as  her  true  jointure,  not  any  claim  of  mine 
to  Appleby  Hundred,  but  the  estate  itself. 

I  read  it  through  as  I  have  said,  and,  looking 
across  to  these  two  plotters,  the  miser-master  and 
his  henchman,  smiled  as  I  had  never  thought  to 
smile  again. 

"So,"  said  I ;  "the  truth  is  out  at  last.  I  wondered 
if  the  confiscation  act  had  left  you  wholly  scathe- 
less, Mr.  Stair.  Well,  I  am  content.  I  shall  die 
the  easier  for  knowing  that  I  have  lain  a  guest  in 
my  own  house.  Give  me  the  pen." 

'Twas  given  quickly,  and  I  signed  the  will,  with 
Tybee  and  the  lawyer  for  the  witnesses;  Margery 
standing  by  the  while  and  looking  on;  though 
not,  I  made  sure,  with  any  realizing  of  the  business 
matter. 

When  all  was  done  the  priest  found  his  book, 
and  we  stood  before  him;  the  woman  who  had 
sworn  to  hate,  and  the  man  who,  loving  her  to 
full  forgetfulness  of  death  itself,  must  yet  be 
cold  and  formal,  masking  his  love  for  her  dear  sake, 
and  for  the  sake  of  loyalty  to  his  friend.  And 
here  again  'twas  Tybee  and  the  lawyer  who  were 
the  witnesses;  the  one  well  hated,  and  the  other 
loved  if  but  for  this ;  that  when  the  time  came  for 
the  giving  of  the  ring,  he  drew  a  gold  band  from 
his  little  finger  and  made  me  take  and  use  it. 

And  so  that  deed  was  done  in  some  such  sorry 
fashion  as  the  time  and  place  constrained ;  and  had 
you  stood  within  the  four  walls  of  that  upper  room 
you  would  have  thought  the  chill  of  death  had 


128       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

touched  us,  and  that  the  low-voiced  priest  was 
shriving  us  the  while  we  knelt  to  take  his  benedic- 
tion. All  through  this  farce — which  was  in  truth 
the  grimmest  of  all  tragedies — my  lady  played  her 
part  as  one  who  walks  in  sleep ;  and  at  the  end  she 
let  her  father  lead  her  out  with  not  a  word  or  look 
or  sign  to  me. 

You'd  guess  that  I  would  take  it  hard — her  leav- 
ing of  me  thus,  as  I  made  sure,  for  all  eternity; 
and  I  did  take  it  hard.  For  when  the  strain  was 
off,  and  there  was  no  one  by  to  see  or  hear  save 
my  good-hearted  death-watch,  I  must  needs  go 
down  upon  my  knees  beside  the  bed  in  childish 
weakness,  and  sob  and  choke  and  let  the  hot  tears 
come  as  I  had  not  since  at  this  same  bedside  I  had 
knelt  a  little  lad  to  take  my  mother's  dying  love. 


XII 

HOW  THE  NEWS  CAME  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS 

Though  all  the  western  quarter  of  the  sky  was 
night-black  and  spangled  yet  with  stars,  the  dawn 
was  graying  slowly  in  the  east  when  Tybee 
roused  me. 

"They  have  not  come  for  you  as  yet,"  he  said; 
"  so  I  took  time  by  the  forelock  and  passed  the  word 
for  breakfast.  It  heartens  a  man  to  eat  a  bite  and 
drink  a  cup  of  wine  just  on  the  battle's  edge.  Will 
you  sit  and  let  me  serve  you,  Captain  Ireton?" 

"That  I  will  not,"  said  I ;  adding  that  I  would 
blithely  share  the  breakfast  with  him.  Whereat  he 
laughed  and  clipt  my  hand,  and  swore  I  was  a  true 
soldier  and  a  brave  gentleman  to  boot. 

So  we  sat  and  hobnobbed  at  the  table ;  and  Tybee 
lighted  all  the  remnant  candle-ends,  and  broached 
the  wine  and  pledged  me  in  a  bumper  before  we  fell 
to  upon  the  cold  haunch  of  venison. 

My  summons  came  when  we  had  shared  the  heel- 
tap of  the  bottle.  It  was  my  toast  to  this  kind- 
hearted  youngster,  and  we  drained  it  standing  what 
time  the  stair  gave  back  the  tread  of  marching 
129 


130       THE   MASTER   OF.  APPLEBY, 

men.  Tybee  crashed  his  glass  upon  the  floor  and 
wrung  my  hand  across  the  table. 

"Good  by,  my  Captain;  they  have  come.  God 
damn  me,  sir,  I'll  swear  they  might  do  worse  than 
let  you  go,  for  all  your  spying.  You've  carried  off 
this  matter  with  the  lady  as  a  gentleman  should, 
and  whilst  I  live,  she  shall  not  lack  a  friend.  If 
you  have  any  word  to  leave  for  her — " 

I  shook  my  head.  "No,"  said  I ;  then,  on  second 
thought :  "And  yet  there  is  a  word.  You  saw  how 
I  must  see  the  matter  through  to  shield  the  lady  ?" 

"Surely ;  'twas  plain  enough  for  any  one  to  see." 

"Then  I  shall  die  the  easier  if  you  will  undertake 
to  make  it  plain  to  Richard  Jennifer.  He  must  be 
made  to  know  that  I  supplanted  him  only  in  a  formal 
way,  and  that  to  save  the  lady's  honor." 

THe  lieutenant  promised  heartily,  and  as  he  spoke, 
the  oaken  bar  was  lifted  and  my  reprieve  was  at 
an  end. 

Having  the  thing  to  despatch  before  they  broke 
their  fast,  my  soldier  hangmen  marched  me  off 
without  ado.  The  house  and  all  within  it  seemed 
yet  asleep,  "but  out  of  doors  the  legion  vanguard  was 
astir,  and  newly  kindled  camp-fires  smoked  and 
blazed  among  the  trees.  In  shortest  space  we  left 
these  signs  of  life  behind,  and  I  began  to  think 
toward  the  end. 

'Tis  curious  how  sweet  this  troubled  life  of  ours 
becomes  when  that  day  wakes  wherein  it  must  be 
shuffled  off!  As  a  soldier  must,  I  thought  I  had 
held  life  lightly  enough;  nay,  this  I  know;  I  had 


THE  NEWS  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS    131 

often  worn  it  upon  my  sleeve  in  battle.  But  now, 
when  I  was  marching  forth  to  this  cold-blooded 
end  without  the  battle-chance  to  make  it  welcome, 
all  nature  cried  aloud  to  me. 

The  dawn  was  not  unlike  that  other  dawn  a 
month  past  when  I  had  ridden  down  the  river 
road  with  Jennifer;  a  morning  fair  and  fine,  its 
cup  abrim  and  running  over  with  the  wine  of  life. 
I  thought  the  cool,  moist  air  had  never  seemed  so 
sweet  and  fragrant;  that  nature's  garb  had  never 
seemed  so  blithe.  There  was  no  hint  nor  sign  of 
death  in  all  the  wooded  prospect.  The  birds  were 
singing  joyously;  the  squirrels,  scarce  alarmed 
enough  to  scamper  out  of  sight,  sat  each  upon  his 
bough  to  chatter  at  us  as  we  passed.  And  once, 
when  we  were  filing  through  a  bosky  dell  with 
softest  turf  to  muffle  all  our  treadings,  a  fox  ran 
out  and  stood  with  one  uplifted  foot,  and  was  as 
still  as  any  stock  or  stone  until  he  had  the  scent 
of  us. 

A  mile  beyond  the  outfields  of  Appleby  Hundred 
we  passed  the  legion  picket  line,  and  I  began  to 
wonder  why  we  went  so  far;  wondered  and 
made  bold  to  ask  the  ensign  in  command,  turning 
it  into  a  grim  jest  and  saying  I  misliked  to  come 
too  weary  to  my  end. 

The  ensign,  a  curst  young  popinjay,  as  little 
officer  cubs  are  like  to  be,  answered  flippantly  that 
the  colonel  had  commuted  my  sentence ;  that  I  was 
to  be  shot  like  a  soldier,  and  that  far  enough  afield 
so  the  volleying  would  not  wake  the  house. 


132        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

So  we  fared  on,  and  a  hundred  yards  beyond 
this  point  of  question  and  reply  came  out  into  an 
open  grove  of  oaks:  then  I  knew  where  they  had 
brought  me — and  why.  'Twas  the  glade  where  I 
had  fought  my  losing  battle  with  the  baronet.  On 
its  farther  confines  two  horses  nibbled  rein's-length 
at  the  grass,  with  Falconnet's  trooper  serving-man 
to  hold  them ;  and,  standing  on  the  very  spot  where 
he  had  thrust  me  out,  my  enemy  was  waiting. 

'Twas  all  prearranged;  for  when  the  ensign  had 
saluted  he  marched  his  men  a  little  way  apart  and 
drew  them  up  in  line  with  muskets  ported.  But 
at  a  sign  from  Falconnet,  two  of  the  men  broke 
ranks  and  came  to  strap  me  helpless  with  their  belts. 
I  smiled  at  that,  and  would  not  miss  the  chance  to 
jeer. 

"You  are  a  sorry  coward,  Captain  Falconnet,  as 
bullies  ever  are,"  I  said.  "Would  not  your  sword 
suffice  against  a  man  with  empty  hands  ?" 

He  passed  the  taunt  in  silence,  and  when  the  men 
had  left  me,  said:  "I  have  come  to  speed  your 
parting,  Captain  Ireton.  You  are  a  thick-headed, 
witless  fool,  as  you  have  always  been;  yet  since 
you've  blundered  into  serving  me,  I  would  not 
grudge  the  time  to  come  and  thank  you." 

"I  serve  you?"  I  cried.  "God  knows  I'd  serve 
you  up  in  collops  at  the  table  of  your  master,  the 
devil,  could  I  but  stand  before  you  with  a  carving 
tool!" 

He  laughed  softly.  "Always  vengeful  and  vin- 
dictive, and  always  because  you  must  ever  mess 


THE  NEWS  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS    133 

and  meddle  with  other  men's  concerns,"  he  retort- 
ed. "And  yet  I  say  you've  served  me." 

"Tell  me  how,  in  God's  name,  that  I  may  not  die 
with  that  sin  unrepented  of." 

"Oh,  in  many  small  ways,  but  chiefly  in  this  af- 
fair with  the  little  lady  of  Appleby." 

"Never!"  I  denied.  "So  far  as  decent  speech 
could  compass  it,  I  have  ever  sought  to  tell  her  what 
a  conscienceless  villain  you  are." 

He  laughed  again  at  that. 

"You  know  women  but  indifferently,  my  Captain, 
if  you  think  to  breach  a  love  affair  by  a  cannonade 
of  hard  words.  But  I  am  in  no  humor  to  dis- 
pute with  you.  You  have  lost,  and  I  have  won; 
and,  were  I  not  here  to  come  between,  you'd  look 
your  last  upon  the  things  of  earth  in  shortest  order, 
I  do  assure  you." 

"You? — you  come  between?"  I  scoffed.  "You 
are  all  kinds  of  a  knave,  Sir  Francis,  but  your  worst 
enemy  never  accused  you  of  being  a  fool !" 

There  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  I  could  never 
fathom. 

"You  are  bitter  hard,  John  Ireton — bitter  and 
savage  and  unforgiving.  You  knew  the  wild  blade 
of  a  half-score  years  ago,  and  now  you'd  make  the 
grown  man  pay  scot  and  lot  for  that  same  young- 
ster's misdeeds.  Have  you  never  a  touch  of  human 
kindliness  in  you?" 

To  know  how  this  affected  me  you  must  turn 
back  to  that  place  where  I  have  tried  to  picture  out 
this  man  for  you.  I  said  he  had  a  gift  to  turn  a 


134       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

woman's  head  or  touch  her  heart.  I  should  have 
said  that  he  could  use  this  gift  at  will  on  any  one. 
For  the  moment  I  forgot  his  cool  disposal  of  me 
in  the  talk  with  Captain  Stuart ;  forgot  how  he  had 
lied  to  make  me  out  a  spy  and  so  had  brought  me 
to  this  pass. 

So  I  could  only  say:  "You  killed  my  friend, 
Frank  Falconnet,  and — " 

"Tush !"  said  he.  "That  quarrel  died  nine  years 
ago.  Your  reviving  of  it  now  is  but  a  mask." 

"For  what?"  I  asked. 

"For  your  just  resentment  in  sweet  Margery's 
behalf.  Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  like,  but  I  could 
love  you  for  that  blow  you  gave  me,  John  Ireton. 
I  had  been  losing  cursedly  at  cards  that  day,  and 
mine  host's  wine  had  a  dash  of  usquebaugh  in  it, 
I  dare  swear.  At  any  rate,  I  knew  not  what  it  was 
I  said  till  Tybee  said  it  over  for  me." 

"But  the  next  morning  you  took  a  cur's  advan- 
tage of  me  on  this  very  spot  and  ran  me  through," 
I  countered. 

"Name  it  what  you  will  and  let  it  go  at  that. 
There  was  murder  in  your  eye,  and  you  are  the  bet- 
ter swordsman.  You  put  me  upon  it  for  my  life, 
and  when  you  gave  me  leave,  I  did  not  kill  you,  as 
I  might." 

"No ;  you  reserved  me  for  this." 

He  took  a  step  nearer  and  seemed  strangely  agi- 
tated. 

"You  forced  my  hand,  John  Ireton,"  he  said, 
speaking  low  that  the  others  might  not  hear.  "You 


THE  NEWS  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS    135 

had  her  ear  from  day  to  day  and  used  your  privi- 
lege against  me.  As  an  enemy  who  merely  sought 
my  life  for  vengeance's  sake  I  could  spare  you; 
but  as  a  rival — " 

I  laughed,  and  sanity  began  to  come  again. 
"Make  an  end  of  it,"  I  said.  "I'd  rather  hear  the 
muskets  speak  than  you." 

For  reply  he  took  a  folded  paper  from  his  pocket 
and  spread  and  held  it  so  that  I  might  read.  It  was 
a  letter  from  my  Lord  Cornwallis,  directing  Captain 
Falconnet  to  send  his  prisoner,  Captain  John  Ire- 
ton,  sometime  lieutenant  in  the  Royal  Scots  Blues, 
under  guard  to  his  Lordship's  headquarters  in 
South  Carolina. 

"Can  you  read  it  ?"  he  asked. 

I  nodded. 

"Well,  this  supersedes  the  colonel's  sentence.  If 
I  say  the  word  to  Ensign  Farquharson  you  will  be 
remanded." 

"To  be  shot  or  hanged  a  little  later,  I  suppose?" 

"No.  Have  you  any  notion  why  my  Lord  Charles 
is  sending  for  you  ?" 

"No,"  said  I,  in  my  turn;  and,  indeed,  I  had 
not. 

"He  knows  your  record  as  an  officer,  and  would 
give  you  a  chance  to  'list  in  your  old  service." 

"I  would  not  take  it — at  your  hands  or  his." 

"You'd  best  take  it.  But  in  any  event,  you'll 
have  your  life  and  honorable  safe-conduct  beyond 
the  lines." 

"Make  an  end,"  I  said  again.    "I  understand  you 


136       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

will  obey  his  Lordship's  order,  or  disregard  it,  as 
your  own  interest  directs.  What  would  you  have 
me  do?" 

"A  very  little  thing  to  weigh  against  a  life.  Mr. 
Gilbert  Stair  is  my  very  good  friend." 

I  let  that  go  uncontradicted. 

"His  title  to  the  estate  is  secure  enough,  as  you 
know,  but  you  can  make  it  better,"  he  went  on. 

This  saying  of  his  told  me  what  I  had  only 
guessed :  that  as  yet  he  had  not  been  admitted  into 
Gilbert  Stair's  full  confidence;  also,  that  he  had  no 
hint  of  what  had  taken  place  in  my  chamber  some 
hour  or  two  past  midnight.  At  that,  a  joy  fierce 
like  pain  came  to  thrill  me. 

"Go  on,"  said  I. 

"Your  route  to  Camden  lies  through  Charlotte. 
Your  guard  will  give  you  time  and  opportunity  to 
execute  a  quitclaim  in  Mr.  Stair's  favor." 

"Is  that  all?"  I  asked. 

"No;  after  that  our  ways  must  lie  apart— or 
yours  and  Margery's,  at  all  events.  Give  me  your 
word  of  honor  that  you  relinquish  any  claim  you 
have,  or  think  you  have,  upon  her,  and  I  pass  this 
letter  on  to  the  ensign." 

"And  if  I  refuse?" 

He  came  so  near  that  I  could  see  the  lurking  devil 
in  his  eyes. 

"If  you  refuse?  Harken,  John  Ireton;  if  you 
had  a  hundred  lives  to  thrust  between  me  and  the 
thing  I  crave,  I'd  take  them  all."  So  much  he  said 
calmly;  then  a  sudden  gust  of  passion  seized  him, 


THE  NEWS  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS    137 

and  for  once,  I  think,  he  spoke  the  simple  truth. 
"God!  I'd  sink  my  soul  in  Calvin's  hell  to  have 
her!" 

I  could  not  wholly  mask  the  smile  of  triumph 
that  his  words  evoked.  This  fox  of  maiden  vine- 
yards was  entrapped  at  last.  I  saw  the  fire  of 
such  a  passion  as  such  a  man  may  know  burning 
in  his  eyes ;  and  then  I  knew  why  he  was  come  upon 
this  errand. 

"So?"  said  I.  "Then  Mistress  Margery  sent 
you  here  to  save  me?"  'Twas  but  a  guess,  but  I 
made  sure  it  hit  the  truth. 

He  swore  a  sneering  oath.  "So  the  priest  carried 
tales,  did  he  ?  Well,  make  the  most  of  it ;  she  would 
not  have  her  father's  guest  taken  from  his  bed  and 
hanged  like  a  dog." 

I  smiled  again.  "  'Twas  more  than  that :  she 
would  even  go  so  far  as  to  beg  her  husband's  life 
a  boon  from  that  same  husband's  mortal  enemy." 

"Bah!"  he  scoffed.  "That  lie  of  yours  imposed 
upon  the  colonel,  but  I  had  better  information." 

"A  lie,  you  say?  True,  'twas  a  lie  when  it  was 
uttered.  But  afterward,  some  hour  or  so  past  mid- 
night, by  the  good  help  of  Father  Matthieu,  and 
with  your  Lieutenant  Tybee  for  one  witness  and  the 
lawyer  for  another,  we  made  a  sober  truth  of  it." 

I  hope,  for  your  own  peace  of  mind,  my  dears, 
that  you  may  never  see  a  fellow  human  turn  devil 
in  a  breath  as  I  did  then.  His  man's  face  fell  away 
from  him  like  a  vanishing  mask,  and  in  the  place 
of  it  a  hideous  demon,  malignant  and  murderous, 


138       .THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY 

glared  upon  me.  Twice  his  hand  sought  the  sword- 
hilt,  and  once  the  blade  was  half  unsheathed.  Then 
he  thrust  his  devil-face  in  mine  and  hissed  his  part- 
ing word  at  me  so  like  a  snake  it  made  me  shudder 
with  abhorrence. 

"You've  signed  your  own  death  warrant,  you  wit- 
less fool!  You'd  play  the  spoil-sport  here  as  you 
did  once  before,  would  you?  Curse  you!  I  wish 
you  had  a  hundred  lives  that  I  might  take  them  one 
by  one!"  Then  he  wheeled  sharp  upon  his  heel 
and  gave  the  order  to  the  ensign.  "Belt  him  to 
the  tree,  Farquharson,  and  make  an  end  of  him. 
I've  kept  you  waiting  over-long." 

They  strapped  me  to  a  tree  with  other  belts,  and 
when  all  was  ready  the  ensign  stepped  aside  to  give 
the  word.  Just  here  there  came  a  little  pause  pro- 
longed beyond  the  moment  of  completed  prepara- 
tion. I  knew  not  why  they  waited,  having  other 
things  to  think  of.  I  saw  the  firing  line  drawn  up 
with  muskets  leveled.  I  marked  the  row  of  weath- 
er-beaten faces  pillowed  on  the  gun-stocks  with 
eyes  asquint  to  sight  the  pieces.  I  remember  count- 
ing up  the  pointing  muzzles ;  remember  wondering 
which  would  be  the  first  to  belch  its  fire  at  me,  and 
if,  at  that  short  range,  a  man  might  live  to  see  the 
flash  and  hear  the  roar  before  the  bullets  killed  the 
senses. 

But  while  I  screwed  my  courage  to  the  stick- 
ing place  and  sought  to  hold  it  there,  the  pause  be- 
came a  keen-edged  agony.  A  glance  aside — a 
glance  that  cost  a  mightier  effort  than  it  takes  to 


THE  NEWS  TO  UNWELCOME  EARS    139 

break  a  nightmare — showed  me  the  ensign  standing 
ear  a-cock,  as  one  who  listens. 

What  he  heard  I  know  not,  for  all  the  earth 
seemed  hushed  to  silence  waiting  on  his  word.  But 
on  the  instant  the  early  morning  stillness  of  the  for- 
est crashed  alive,  and  pandemonium  was  come.  A 
savage  yell  to  set  the  very  leaves  a-tremble;  a 
crackling  volley  from  the  underwood  that  left  a 
heap  of  writhing,  dying  men  where  but  now  the  fir- 
ing squad  had  stood;  then  a  headlong  charge  of 
rough-clad  horsemen — all  this  befell  in  less  than 
any  time  the  written  words  can  measure. 

I  sensed  it  all  but  vaguely  at  the  first,  but  when 
a  passing  horseman  slashed  me  free  I  came  alive, 
and  life  and  all  it  meant  to  me  was  centered  in  a 
single  fierce  desire.  Falconnet  had  escaped  the 
fusillade ;  was  making  swiftly  for  his  horse,  safe  as 
yet  from  any  touch  of  lead  or  steel.  So  I  might 
reach  and  pull  him  down,  I  cared  no  groat  what 
followed  after. 

It  was  not  so  to  be.  In  the  swift  dash  across  the 
glade  I  went  too  near  the  shambles  in  the  midst. 
The  corporal  of  the  firing  squad,  a  bearded  Saxon 
giant,  whose  face,  hideously  distorted,  will  haunt  me 
while  I  live,  lay  fairly  in  the  way,  his  heels  drum- 
ming in  the  death  agony,  and  his  great  hands  clutch- 
ing at  the  empty  air. 

I  leaped  to  clear  him.  In  the  act  the  clutching 
hands  laid  hold  of  me  and  I  was  tripped  and  thrown 
upon  tlie  heap  of  dead  and  dying  men,  and  could 
not  free  myself  in  time  to  stop  the  baronet. 


140       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

I  saw  him  gain  his  horse  and  mount;  saw  the 
flash  of  his  sword  and  the  skilful  parry  that  in  a 
single  roulade  warded  death  on  either  hand;  saw 
him  drive  home  the  spurs  and  vanish  among  the 
trees,  with  his  horse-holding  trooper  at  his  heels.  ; 

And  then  my  rescuers,  or  else  my  newer  captors, 
picked  me  up  hastily ;  and  I  was  hoisted  behind  the 
saddle  of  the  nearest,  and  so  was  borne  away  in  all 
the  hue  and  cry  of  a  most  unsoldierly  retreat. 


XIII 

IN  WHICH  A  PILGRIMAGE  BEGINS 

As  you  have  guessed  before  you  turned  this  page, 
the  men  who  charged  so  opportunely  to  cut  me  out 
of  peril  were  my  captors  only  in  the  saving  sense. 

Their  overnight  bivouac  was  not  above  a  mile 
beyond  the  glade  of  ambushment.  It  was  in  a  little 
dell,  cunningly  hid;  and  the  embers  of  the  camp- 
fires  were  still  alive  when  we  of  the  horse  came 
first  to  this  agreed-on  rallying  point. 

Here  at  this  rendezvous  in  the  forest's  heart  I 
had  my  first  sight  of  any  fighting  fragment  of  that 
undisciplined  and  yet  unconquerable  patriot  home- 
guard  that  even  in  defeat  proved  too  tough  a  morsel 
for  British  jaws  to  masticate. 

They  promised  little  to  the  eye  of  a  trained  sol- 
dier, these  border  levies.  In  fancy  I  could  see  my 
old  field-marshal, — he  was  the  father  of  all  the 
martinets, — turn  up  his  nose  and  dismiss  them  with 
a  contemptuous  "Ach!  mein  Gott!"  And,  truly, 
there  was  little  outward  show  among  them  of  the 
sterling  metal  underneath. 

They  came  singly  and  in  couples,  straggling 
141 


142       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

like  a  routed  band  of  brigands ;  some  loading  their 
pieces  as  they  ran.  There  was  no  hint  of  soldier 
discipline,  and  they  might  have  been  leaderless  for 
aught  I  saw  of  deference  to  their  captain.  Indeed, 
at  first  I  could  not  pick  the  captain  out  by  any 
sign,  since  all  were  clad  in  coarsest  homespun  and 
well-worn  leather,  and  all  wore  the  long,  fringed 
hunting  shirt  and  raccoon-skin  cap  of  the  free  bor- 
derers. 

Yet  these  were  a  handful  of  the  men  who  had 
fought  so  stoutly  against  the  Tory  odds  at  Ram- 
sour's  Mill,  their  captain  being  that  Abram  Forney 
of  whom  you  may  read  in  the  histories ;  and  though 
th'ey  made  no  military  show,  they  lacked  neither 
hardihood  nor  courage,  of  a  certain  persevering 
sort. 

"Ever  come  any  closter  to  your  Amen  than  that, 
stranger?"  drawled  one  of  them,  a  grizzled  bor- 
derer, lank,  lean  and  weather-tanned,  with  a  face 
that  might  have  been  a  leathern  mask  for  any  hint 
it  gave  of  what  went  on  behind  it.  "I'll  swear  tha't 
little  whip'-snap'  officer  cub  had  the  word  'Fire' 
sticking  in  his  teeth  when  I  gave  him  old  Sukey's 
mouthful  o'  lead  to  chaw  on." 

I  said  I  had  come  as  near  my  exit  a  time  or  two 
before,  though  always  in  fair  fight;  and  thereupon 
was  whelmed  in  an  avalanche  of  questions  such  as 
only  simple-hearted  folk  know  how  to  ask. 

When  I  had  sufficiently  accounted  for  myself, 
Captain  Forney — he  was  the  limber-backed  young 


A   PILGRIMAGE   BEGINS  143 

fellow  I  had  ridden  behind — gripped  my  hand  and 
gave  me  a  hearty  welcome  and  congratulation. 

"My  father  and  yours  were  handfast  friends, 
Captain  Ireton.  More  than  that,  I've  heard  my 
father  say  he  owed  yours  somewhat  on  the  score 
of  good  turns.  I'm  master  glad  I've  had  a  chance 
to  even  up  a  little;  though  as  for  that,  we  should 
both  thank  the  Indian."  At  which  he  looked  around 
as  one  who  calls  an  eye-muster  and  marks  a  missing 
man.  "Where  is  the  chief,  Ephraim  ?" — this  to  the 
grizzled  hunter  who  was  methodically  reloading  his. 
long  rifle. 

"He's  back  yonder,  gathering  in  the  hair-crop,  I 
reckon.  Never  you  mind  about  him,  Cap'n.  He'll 
turn  up  when  he  smells  the  meat  a-cooking,  imme- 
jitly,  if  not  sooner." 

Here,  as  I  imagine,  I  looked  all  the  questions  that 
lacked  answers ;  for  Captain  Forney  took  it  in  hand 
to  fit  them  out  with  explications. 

;  'Tis  Uncanoola,  the  Catawba,"  he  said ;  "one  of 
the  friendlies.  He  was  out  a-scouting  last  night 
and  came  in  an  hour  before  daybreak  with  the  news 
that  Colonel  Tarleton  was  set  upon  hanging  a  spy 
of  ours.  From  that  to  our  little  ambushment — " 

"I  see,"  said  I,  wanting  space  to  turn  the  memory 
leaves.  "This  Catawba :  is  he  a  man  about  my  age  ?" 
Captain  Forney  laughed.  "God  He  only  knows 
an  Indian's  age.  But  Uncanoola  has  been  a  man 
grown  these  fifteen  years  or  more.  I  can  recall 
his  coming  to  my  father's  house  when  I  was  but  a 
little  cadger.'* 


144       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

At  that,  I  remembered,  too;  remembered  a  tall, 
straight  young  savSge,  as  handsome  as  a  figure 
done  in  bronze,  who  used  sometimes  to  meet  me  in 
the  lonelier  forest  wilds  when  I  was  out  a-hunting; 
remembered  how  at  first  I  was  afraid  of  him ;  how 
once  I  would  have  shot  him  in  a  fit  of  boyish  race 
antipathy  and  sudden  fright  had  he  not  flung  away 
his  firelock  and  stood  before  me  defenseless. 

Also,  I  recalled  a  little  incident  of  the  terrible 
scourge  in  '60  when  the  black  pox  bade  fair  to  blot 
out  this  tribe  of  the  Catawbas ;  how  when  my  father 
had  found  this  young  savage  lying  in  the  forest, 
plague-stricken  and  deserted  by  all  his  tribesmen, 
he  had  saved  his  life  and  earned  an  Indian  friend- 
ship. 

"I  know  this  Uncanoola,"  I  said.  "My  father 
befriended  him  in  the  plague  of  '60,  and  was  never 
sorry  for  it,  as  I  believe."  Then  I  would  ask  if 
these  Catawbas  had  ranged  themselves  on  the 
patriot  side,  a  question  which  led  the  young  militia 
captain  to  give  me  the  news  at  large  while  his  bor- 
derers were  breaking  camp  and  making  their  hasty 
preparations  for  the  day's  march. 

"  'Tis  liberty  or  death  with  us  now ;  we've  burnt 
our  bridges  behind  us,"  he  said,  when  he  had  con- 
firmed the  tidings  I  had  had  the  day  before  from 
Father  Matthieu.  "And  since  here  in  Carolina  we 
have  to  fight  each  man  against  his  neighbor,  'tis 
like  to  go  hard  with  us,  lacking  help  from  the 
North." 

"Measured  by  this  morning's  work,  Captain  For- 


A   PILGRIMAGE   BEGINS  145 

ney,  these  irregulars  of  yours  seem  well  able  to 
give  a  good  account  of  themselves,"  I  ventured. 

He  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  He  was  but  a  boy 
in  years,  but  war  is  a  shrewd  schoolmaster,  and  this 
youth, -like  many  another  on  the  fighting  frontier, 
had  matriculated  early. 

"You've  seen  us  at  our  best,"  he  amended.  "We 
can  ambush  like  the  Indians,  fire  a  volley,  yell, 
charge — and  run  away." 

"What's  that  ye're  saying,  youngster?"  The 
grizzled  hunter  had  finished  reloading  his  rifle,  and, 
lounging  in  earshot  with  all  the  freedom  of  the  bor- 
der, would  take  the  captain  up  sharply  on  this  last. 

"You  heard  me,  Eph  Yeates,"  replied  my  young 
captain,  curtly. 

The  old  man  leaned  his  rifle  against  a  tree,  spat 
on  his  hands,  cut  a  clumsy  caper  in  air,  and  gave 
tongue  in  a  yell  that  should  have  been  heard  by 
Tarleton's  men  at  Appleby. 

"By  the  eternal  'coonskins !  I  can  gouge  the  eye 
out  of  ary  man  that  says  Eph  Yeates  carn't  stand 
up  fair  and  square  and  whop  his  weight  in  wild- 
cats ;  and  I  can  do  it  now,  if  not  sooner !"  he  shrilled. 
"Come  on,  you  pap-eating,  apron-stringed,  French- 
daddied— " 

Where  the  blast  of  vituperative  insult  would  have 
spent  itself  in  natural  course  we  were  not  to  know, 
for  in  the  midst  another  of  the  borderers,  a  wiry 
little  man  in  greasy  deerskin,  came  up  behind  the 
capering  ancient,  whipped  an  arm  around  his  neck, 
and  in  a  trice  the  two  went  down,  kicking,  scratch- 


146       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

ing,  buffeting  and  mauling,  as  like  to  a  pair  of  bat- 
tling bobcats  as  was  ever  seen. 

For  a  moment  I  thought  my  youngster  would 
let  them  have  it  out  to  the  finish,  but  he  did  not. 
At  his  order  some  of  the  others  pulled  the  twain 
apart,  reluctantly,  I  fancied;  and  when  the  thing 
was  done  the  old  man  caught  up  his  rifle  and  strode 
away  in  blackest  wrath  without  a  look  behind  him. 

Captain  Forney  shrugged  and  spread  his  hands 
as  his  French  father  might  have  done. 

"Now  you  know  wherein  our  weakness  lies,  Cap- 
tain Ireton,"  he  said.  "There  goes  as  true  a  man 
and  as  keen  a  shot  as  ever  pulled  trigger.  Let  him 
fight  in  his  own  way,  and  he'll  take  cover  and  name 
his  man  for  every  bullet  in  his  pouch.  But  as  for 
yielding  to  decent  authority,  or  standing  against 
trained  troops  in  open  field — "  He  shrugged  again 
and  turned  to  tighten  his  saddle-girth. 

"I  see,"  said  I.  Then  I  asked  him  of  his  plans 
and  intendings,  and  was  told  that  he  and  his  handful 
were  a-march  to  join  General  Rutherford,  who  was 
gone  to  the  Forks  of  Yadkin  to  break  up  some  Tory 
embodiment  thereabouts. 

"You  have  your  work  cut  out  to  dodge  the  British 
light-horse,  Captain  Forney,"  said  I;  capping  the 
venture  by  telling  him  what  little  I  knew  of  Tarle- 
ton's  dispositions,  and  also  of  the  Indian-arming 
plot  I  had  overheard. 

"We'll  dodge  the  redcoats,  never  you  fear ;  we're 
at  our  best  in  that,"  he  rejoined,  carelessly.  "And 
as  to  the  Cherokee  upstirring,  that's  an  old  story. 


A    PILGRIMAGE   BEGINS  147 

The  king's  men  have  tried  it  twice  and  they  have  not 
yet  caught  Jack  Sevier  or  Jimmie  Robertson  a-nap- 
ping.  Ease  your  mind  on  that  score,  Captain  Ireton, 
and  come  along  with  us,  if  you  have  nothing  better 
to  do.  I  can  promise  you  hard  living,  and  hard 
fighting  enough  to  keep  it  in  countenance." 

At  this  I  was  brought  down  to  some  consideration 
of  the  present  and  its  demands.  As  fortune's  wheel 
had  twirled,  I  had  my  life,  to  be  sure;  but  by  the 
having  of  it  was  made  the  basest  traitor  to  my  friend 
— to  Jennifer,  and  no  whit  less  to  Margery. 

'Twas  out  of  any  thought  that  I  should  take  the 
field  against  the  common  enemy,  leaving  this  tan- 
gled web  of  mystery  and  misery  behind.  In  sheerest 
decency  I  owed  it  first  to  Jennifer  to  make  a  swift 
and  frank  confession  of  the  ill-concluded  tale  of 
happenings.  That  done,  I  owed  it  equally  to  him 
and  Margery  to  find  some  way  to  set  aside  the  mid- 
night marriage. 

So  I  fell  back  upon  my  wound  for  an  excuse, 
telling  the  captain  that  I  was  not  yet  fit  to 
take  the  field — which  was  true  enough.  Whereupon 
he  and  his  men  set  me  well  beyond  the  danger  of 
immediate  pursuit  and  we  parted  company. 

When  I  was  left  alone  I  had  no  plan  that  reached 
beyond  the  day's  end.  Since  to  go  to  Jennifer  House 
by  daylight  would  be  to  run  my  neck  afresh  into 
the  noose,  I  saw  nothing  for  it  but  to  lie  in  hiding 
till  nightfall.  The  hiding  place  that  promised  best 
was  the  old  hunting  lodge  in  the  forest,  and  thither- 
ward I  turned  my  face. 


148       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

It  was  a  wise  man  who  said  that  he  who  goes 
with  heavy  heart  drags  heavy  feet  as  well ;  but  while 
I  live  I  shall  remember  how  that  saying  clogged  the 
path  for  me  that  morning,  making  the  shrub-sweet 
summer  air  grow  thick  and  lifeless  as  I  toiled  along. 
For  sober  second  thought,  and  the  unnerving  reac- 
tion which  comes  upon  the  heels  of  some  sharp  peril 
overpast,  left  me  aghast  at  the  coil  in  which  a  tricky 
fate  had  entangled  me. 

The  second  thought  made  plain  the  dispiteous 
hardness  of  it  all,  showing  me  how  I  had  reasoned 
like  a  boy  in  planning  for  retrieval.  Would  Jennifer 
believe  my  tale,  though  I  should  swear  it  out  word 
for  word  on  the  Holy  Evangelists?  I  doubted  it; 
and  striving  to  see  it  through  his  eyes,  was  made  to 
doubt  it  more.  For  death  should  have  been  my 
justifier,  and  death  had  played  me  false. 

As  for  setting  the  midnight  marriage  aside,  I 
made  sure  the  lawyer  tribe  could  find  a  way,  if  that 
were  all.  But  here  there  was  a  loyal  daughter  of  the 
Church  to  reckon  with.  Loathing  her  bonds,  as  any 
true-hearted  maiden  must,  would  Margery  consent 
to  have  them  broken  by  the  law?  I  knew  well  she 
would  not.  Though  our  poor  knotting  of  the  tie 
had  been  little  better  than  a  tragic  farce,  it  lacked 
nothing  of  force  to  bind  the  tender  conscience  of  a 
woman  bred  to  look  upon  the  churchly  rite  as  final. 

So,  twist  and  turn  it  as  I  might,  the  coil  was  des- 
perate ;  and  as  I  strode  on  gloomily,  measuring  this 
the  first  stage  in  a  pilgrimage  I  had  never  thought 
to  make,  a  fire  of  sullen  anger  began  to  smoke  and 


A    PILGRIMAGE   BEGINS  149 

smolder  within  me,  and  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart 
to  curse  the  cruel  kindness  of  my  rescuers ;  to  sor- 
row in  my  inmost  soul  that  they  had  come  between 
to  make  a  living  recreant  of  one  who  would  fain 
have  died  an  honest  man. 


XIV 

HOW  THE  BARONET  PLAYED  ROUGE-ET-NOIR 

The  sun  was  well  above  the  tree-tops,  and  the 
morning  was  abroad  for  all  the  furred  and  feathered 
wood-folk,  when  I  forsook  the  Indian  path  to  make 
a  prudent  circle  of  reconnaissance  around  the  cabin 
in  the  maple  grove. 

Happily,  there  was  no  need  for  the  cautionary 
measure.  '  The  hunting  lodge  was  undiscovered  as 
yet  by  any  enemy ;  and  when  I  showed  myself  my 
poor  black  vassals  ran  to  do  my  bidding,  weeping 
with  childish  joy  to  have  me  back  again. 

Since  old  Darius  was  still  at  Appleby  Hundred, 
Tomas  ranked  as  majordomo ;  and  I  bade  him  post 
the  blacks  in  a  loosely  drawn  sentry  line  about  the 
cabin,  this  against  the  chance  that  Falconnet  might 
stumble  on  the  place  in  searching  for  me.  For  I 
made  no  doubt  his  Tory  spies  would  quickly  pass 
the  word  that  I  was  not  with  Abram  Forney's  band, 
and  hence  must  be  in  hiding. 

When  all  was  done  I  flung  myself  upon  the  couch 
of  panther-skins,  hoping  against  hope  that  sleep 
might  come  to  help  me  through  the  hours  of  wait- 
150 


A   GAME   OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      151 

ing.  'Twas  a  vain  hope.  There  was  never  a  wink 
of  forgetfulness  for  me  in  all  the  long  watches  of  the 
summer  day,  and  I  must  lie  wide-eyed  and  haggard, 
thinking  night  would  never  come,  and  making 
sure  that  fate  had  never  before  walled  a  man  in 
such  a  dungeon  of  despair. 

There  was  no  loophole  of  escape  with  honor. 
The  heavens  were  brass,  with  all  the  horizons  nar- 
rowed to  a  bounding  wall  to  hem  me  in  on  every 
side.  There  was  no  sally-port  in  all  this  wall  save 
one — the  one  that  death  had  promised  to  open  at  the 
dawn.  The  promise  had  been  broken.  True,  death 
had  thrust  the  key  within  the  lock,  and  I  had  heard 
the  grating  of  the  bolts ;  and  yet  the  key  had  been 
withdrawn  and  I  was  left  a  prisoner  of  life. 

There  was  no  hope  of  other  outlet.  Now  there 
was  space  to  view  it  calmly,  I  saw  how  foolish  was 
the  thought  that  Margery  would  connive  at  any 
breaking  of  the  marriage  bond.  She  would  bear 
my  name,  and  hate  me  for  the  giving  of  it ;  would 
go  on  hating  me,  I  thought,  to  all  eternity ;  but  she 
would  never  take  her  freedom  back  again,  save  at 
a  dead  man's  hands. 

It  was  thus  that  each  fresh  scanning  of  the 
prison  wall  that  shut  me  in  this  dungeon  of  dis- 
honor fetched  me  once  and  again  to  this  one  sally- 
port of  death.  And  when  it  came  to  this;  that  I 
had  searched  in  vain  for  other  outlet,  you  will  not 
think  it  strange  that  I  sat  down  in  spirit  at  this 
postern  to  see  if  I  might  open  it  with  my  own 
hands. 


152       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

It  was  not  love  of  life  that  made  me  hesitate. 
At  two-score  years  he  who  has  lived  at  all  has  lived 
his  best ;  and  if  he  live  beyond  the  turning  point  of 
youthful  ardor  he  must  beg  the  grace  of  younger 
men  to  linger  yet  a  little  longer  on  the  stage  which 
once  was  his  and  now  is  theirs. 

No,  it  was  not  any  love  of  life  for  life's  own  sake 
that  held  me  back.  'Twas  rather  that  the  Ireton 
blood  is  linked  up  with  that  thing  we  call  a  con- 
science, a  heritage  from  those  simple-hearted  ances- 
tors to  whom  the  suicide  was  a  soul  accurst — a  soul 
impenitent,  whose  very  outer  husk  of  flesh  and  bones 
they  used  to  bury  at  the  crossing  of  the  ways,  with 
a  sharpened  stake  to  pinion  it. 

'Twas  this  ancestral  conscience  made  me  cow- 
ardly ;  and  when  the  sight  of  my  father's  sword — 
Darius  had  rescued  and  restored  it  to  its  place  upon 
the  chimney-breast — would  set  me  thinking  of  the 
Israelitish  king,  and  how,  when  all  was  lost,  he  fell 
upon  his  blade  and  died,  this  horror  of  the  suicide 
came  to  give  me  pause. 

Besides,  that  way  to  right  the  double  wrong  was 
not  so  clear  as  it  might  seem.  As  matters  stood, 
my  living  for  the  present  was  Margery's  best  safe- 
guard. Till  she  became  my  widow  and  my  heir-at- 
law,  the  mercenary  baronet  would  play  his  cards  to 
win  her  honorably.  I  doubted  not  he'd  make  hot 
love  to  her;  but  while  she  stayed  a  wife,  and  was 
not  yet  a  widow,  he'd  keep  his  passion  decently  in 
bounds,  if  only  for  the  better  compassing  of  his  end. 

But  from  this  horn  of  the  dilemma  I  slipped  to 


A   GAME   OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      153 

fall  upon  the  other.  If  my  living  on  as  Margery's 
husband  was  her  safety  for  the  time,  it  was  an  offer- 
ing of  idol-meats  upon  the  altar  of  my  dear  lad's 
friendship.  What  would  he  think  of  me?  How 
could  I  go  about  to  make  it  plain  that  I  had  robbed 
him  for  his  own  honor's  sake? — that  it  was  not  I 
but  fate  that  was  to  blame  ? 

These  questions  came  up  answerless,  like  deep- 
sea  plummets  where  no  bottom  is.  I  saw  the  way 
no  farther  on  than  this ;  that  I  must  go  straightway 
to  Jennifer  and  tell  him  all.  Beyond  that  point  the 
darkness  was  Egyptian,  and  I  could  only  hope  that 
tricky  fate  would  turn  again  and  blot  me  out,  and 
make  it  plain  to  Richard,  and  to  my  dear  lady,  that 
love,  and  not  base  treachery,  had  set  me  on  to  do 
as  I  had  done. 

In  some  such  dismal  grindings  of  the  mill  of 
thought  the  hours  of  waiting  were  outworn  at 
length ;  and  when  the  sun  was  dipping  to  the  moun- 
tains in  the  west  I  rose  and  washed  me  in  the  brook, 
and  afterward  constrained  myself  to  eat  what  Tomas 
had  prepared  for  me. 

The  sunset  glow  was  fading  in  the  upper  air,  and 
underneath  the  canopy  of  leaves  the  wood  was  dark- 
ening on  to  twilight,  when  I  made  ready  to  be  gone. 
Because  I  thought  I  might  have  need  of  it  before 
the  night  was  done,  I  buckled  on  the  heirloom 
sword ;  and  telling  Tomas  and  the  other  blacks  for 
their  own  safety  to  keep  an  alarm  guard  waking 
through  the  night,  I  sallied  forth  upon  my  errand. 

I've  wished  a  thousand  times,  as  I  sit  here  before 


154        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

the  fire  and  jot  these  memories  down  in  crabbed 
black  on  white,  that  I  could  conjure  up  for  you  some 
speaking  picture  of  this  scene  primeval  in  which 
the  story  moves. 

True,  its  hills  and  valleys  are  t'he  same ;  tHe  river 
keeps  its  course ;  and  in  the  west  the  mountain  sky- 
line is  unchanged.  But  here  similitude  is  at  an 
end.  You've  hacked  the  virgin  forest  into  shapes 
and  fringes  where  once  it  was  an  ample  mantle 
seamed  only  by  the  rivers,  and  frayed  here  and  there 
at  distant  intervals  by  the  settler's  ax. 

Beneath  this  mantle  lay  a  world  unlike  the  world 
you  know.  Plunged  in  its  furtive  depths  you  felt 
the  spell  of  nature's  mystery  upon  you ;  the  mystery 
of  the  hoary  wood,  age-old,  steeped  in  the  nepenthe 
of  the  centuries.  In  brightest  summer  day,  which, 
in  these  forest  aisles,  became  a  misty  green  translu- 
cence,  the  silence,  the  vastness,  the  solitude  laid 
each  a  finger  on  you,  bidding  you  go  softly  all  the 
way.  But  in  the  twilight  hour  the  real  held  still 
more  aloof,  and  all  the  shadows  bristled  with  dim 
fantastic  shapes  to  awe  and  affright  the  alien-born. 

T  was  not  alien-born.  From  earliest  childhood  I 
had  known  and  loved  these  forest  solitudes.  Yet 
now,  as  when  I  was  a  little  lad,  the  twilight  shad- 
ows awed  me.  Here  it  was  a  gnarled  and  twisted 
tree-trunk  so  like  a  crouching  panther  that  I  sprang 
aside  and  had  the  steel  half  out  before  the  clearer 
vision  came.  There  it  was  the  figure  of  a  man 
gliding  stealthily  from  tree  to  tree,  it  seemed ;  keep- 
ing even  pace  with  me  as  if  with  sinister  intent. 


A   GAME    OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      155 

I  pushed  on  faster,  drawing  the  sword  to  keep 
me  better  company,  though  inwardly  I  scoffed  and 
jeered  at  this  new  twittering  of  the  nerves.  What 
threat  was  there  for  me  in  silent  shadows  in  the 
wood  ?  The  dogs  I  had  to  fear  were  bred  in  British 
kennels,  and  there  was  never  any  lack  of  clamor 
when  they  were  beating  up  a  cover. 

Yet  this  persistent  shadow  clung  upon  my  foot- 
steps until  from  casting  furtive  glances  sidewise  I 
came  to  holding  it  craftily  in  the  tail  of  my  eye. 
'Twas  surely  moving  as  I  moved,  and  surely  draw- 
ing nearer.  I  picked  a  time  and  place,  measured  my 
distance,  and  darting  suddenly  aside,  sent  home  a 
thrust  which  should  have  pinned  the  phantom  to  a 
tree. 

"Ugh!  What  for  Captain  Long-knife  want  kill 
the  tree  ?" 

The  voice  came  from  behind,  and  when  I  wheeled 
again  my  shadow  was  become  incarnated  in  flesh 
and  blood;  a  stalwart  Indian,  naked  to  the  belt, 
standing  so  near  he  could  have  pricked  me  with  his 
scalping  knife. 

It  was  God's  mercy  that  by  some  swift  intuition 
I  knew  him  for  the  friendly  Catawba.  It  is  an  ill 
thing  to  take  a  frighted  man  unawares. 

"Uncanoola?"  said  I. 

He  nodded.  "Where  'bouts  Captain  Long-knife 
going?" 

I  told  him  briefly ;  whereat  he  sKook"  his  Head. 

"No  find  Captain  Jennif  this  way;  find  him  that 
way,"  pointing  back  along  the  path. 


156       tTHE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

"How  does  the  chief  know  that?  Has  he  seen 
him?"  Though  my  long  exile  had  well-nigh  cost 
me  the  trick  of  it,  I  made  shift  to  drop  into  the 
stately  Indian  hyperbole. 

"Wah!  Uncanoola  has  seen  the  Great  Water: 
that  make  him  have  long  eyes — see  heap  things." 

"Will  the  Catawba  tell  the  friend  whose  life  he 
saved  what  he  has  seen  ?" 

"Uncanoola  see  heap  things,"  he  repeated.  "See 
Captain  Jennif  so"— he  threw  himself  flat  upon  the 
ground  and  pictured  me  a  fugitive  crawling  snake- 
like  through"  the  underwood.  "Bime-by,  come  to 
river  and  find  canoe — jump  in  and  paddle  fas'; 
bime-by,  'gain,  stop  paddling  and  laugh  and  shake 
fist  this  way,  and  say  'God-damn.'  " 

By  this  I  knew  that  Jennifer  had  escaped;  nay, 
more ;  had  somehow  learned  of  my  escape  and  was 
seeking  me. 

"Is  that  all  the  chief  saw?"  I  asked. 

"Ugh!  See  heap  more  things:  see  one  thing 
white  squaw  no  let  him  tell  Captain  Long-knife. 
Maybe  some  time  tell,  anyhow." 

"The  white  squaw?"  said  I.    "Who  is  she?" 

The  Catawba  laughed,  an  Indian  laugh,  silent 
and  suppressed ;  a  mere  shaking  of  the  ribs. 

"No  can  tell  that,  neither,  too,"  he  said.  Then, 
with  a  swift  dart  aside  from  the  subject :  "Captain 
Long-knife  care  much  T>out  black  dogs  yonder?" 

I  knew  he  meant  the  negroes  at  the  hunting  lodge. 

"The  white  man  cares  for  the  black  as  a  kind  mas- 
ter should,"  I  returned. 


A   GAME    OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      157 

The  Indian  spat  upon  the  ground  in  token  of  his 
hatred  and  contempt  for  all  the  black  skins  in  his 
fatherland.  I  never  understood  this  bitter  race  an- 
tipathy between  the  red  and  black,  but  'tis  a  tale 
well  written  out  in  many  a  bloody  massacre  of  that 
earlier  day. 

"The  wolves  will  kill  all  the  black  dogs  and  drink 
their  blood  before  the  moon  is  awake.  Uncanoola 
has  spoken." 

I  sheathed  my  sword  and  turned  to  take  the 
backward  trace. 

"Captain  Long-knife  will  go  and  fight  for  his 
black  dogs  with  wool  on  their  heads  ?"  he  queried. 

"If  need  be,"  I  asserted. 

"Wah !"  he  ejaculated,  and  at  the  word  was  gone 
as  if  the  earth  had  swallowed  him. 

I  lost  no  time  in  indecision.  Since  Jennifer  was 
abroad,  I  had  no  business  at  the  plantations ;  and 
if  Tomas  and  the  other  refugees  were  like  to  come 
to  harm,  I  could  do  no  less  than  hasten  back  to 
warn  or  help  them. 

So  I  retraced  my  steps,  hurriedly,  as  the  business 
urged;  and  saw  no  more  shadows  in  the  ancient 
wood — in  truth,  had  much  ado  to  see  the  single 
step  ahead,  so  thickly  did  the  darkness  gather  in 
those  skyless  depths. 

I  was  breasting  the  last  low  hill,  was  come  so  near 
that  I  could  hear  the  murmur  of  the  river,  when  in 
the  farthest  hazy  vista  of  the  tree-tops  a  softened 
glow  appeared,  changing  the  black  to  green  and 


158       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

then  to  red.  Twas  like  the  childish  Africans,  I 
said,  to  draw  a  secret  sentry  line  for  safety's  sake, 
and  then  to  build  a  fire  to  advertise  it  far  and  wide. 
Truly,  the  Catawba's  wolves  might  find  an  easy — 

A  chattering-  scream  of  agony  sent  shrill  and 
sharp  upon  the  stillness  of  the  night  halted  me  and 
broke  the  gibing  comment  in  the  midst.  I  stood 
and  listened.  The  cry  rang  out  again ;  then  I  loosed 
the  Andrea  in  its  scabbard  and  fell  a-running, 
though  the  half-healed  wound  scanted  me  sorely 
of  the  breath  I  wanted. 

The  cabin  clearing,  or  rather  the  thinned-out 
grove  which  stood  in  lieu  thereof,  was  but  a  nig- 
gard acre  hemmed  in  on  every  side,  save  that  toward 
the  river,  by  the  virgin  forest.  For  cover  there 
were  holly  thickets  here  and  there,  and  into  one  of 
these  I  plunged,  creeping  on  hands  and  knees  to 
gain  a  hidden  view-point. 

The  scene  in  the  little  clearing  was  one  to  brand 
itself  in  lasting  shapes  upon  the  memory.  A  brush 
heap  newly  kindled  gave  out  a  dusky  glow  flaring 
in  waves  of  smoky  red  against  the  over-arching 
foliage.  The  open  space  around  the  cabin  was 
alive  with  half-naked  savages  running  to  and  fro; 
and  in  the  gloom  beyond  the  fire  I  saw  a  shadowy 
horseman  backed  by  others  still  more  phantom-like. 

There  was  no  mystery  about  it.  My  enemy  had 
come  with  sleuth-hound  Indians  at  his  back  to  run 
me  down.  The  savages  were,  no  doubt,  that  band 
of  over-mountain  Cherokees  pledged  by  their  chief 


A   GAME   OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      159 

to  pilot  the  powder  convoy;  and  by  their  help  the 
baronet  had  tracked  me. 

This  was  the  first  thought,  caught  at  in  passing; 
but  when  I  came  to  look  again  I  saw  what  had  been 
done.  Sprawled  on  the  ground  before  the  burning 
brush  pile,  his  wrinkled  face  a  hideous  mask  of  suf- 
fering, with  the  eyeballs  starting  from  their  sock- 
ets in  the  death-wrench,  lay  my  faithful  Darius. 

By  what  inhuman  tortures  they  had  made  him 
point  the  way,  or  how  or  why  they  slew  him  at  the 
last,  I  know  not,  but  I  made  sure  it  was  his  death- 
scream  that  had  halted  me  and  set  the  stillness  of 
the  forest  alive  with  ghastly  echoes. 

At  sight  of  the  stiffening  body  of  the  faithful 
slave  you  may  suppose  my  blood  ran  cold  and  hot 
by  turns,  and  that  his  blood  cried  out  for  vengeance 
from  the  sod  that  soaked  it  up.  With  ten  years 
more  of  youth  and  less  of  age  I  might  have  tried 
to  hew  my  way  to  Falconnet's  stirrup,  and  so  to 
square  accounts  with  him.  But  had  I  been  a-mind 
to  rush  upon  the  stage  without  my  cue,  another 
climax  in  the  ghastly  tragedy  forbade  it. 

This  climax  turned  upon  the  capture  of  my 
horse-boy,  Tomas.  The  other  blacks,  it  seemed, 
had  made  good  their  escape ;  but  Tomas,  lagging 
behind  through  fear  or  foolishness,  had  given  these 
copper-colored  devils  leave  to  run  him  down  and 

drag  him  back  into  the  fire  light,  with  yells  of 
savage  triumph. 

They  flung  him  down  upon  his  knees  beside  the 


160       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

captain's  horse,  and  though  I  caught  but  here  and 
there  a  word  above  the  frenzied  yipping  of  the  In- 
dians, it  was  plain  the  baronet  was  asking  him 
of  me. 

I  could  not  hear  the  black  boy's  gibbering  an- 
swers, but  that  he  would  not  tell  them  what  they 
wished  to  know — could  not,  indeed,  since,  I  had 
left  no  word  behind  to  track  me  by — was  quickly 
evident.  A  cord  was  found,  and  while  I  crouched 
behind  the  holly  screen,  aghast  and  helpless  as  one 
against  two-score  or  more,  they  looped  him  by  the 
thumbs  and  swung  him  up  to  dangle  from  a  maple 
bough  a  musket's  length  or  such  a  matter  before 
the  cabin  door. 

He  bore  the  torture  patiently,  as  some  poor  dumb 
beast  suffering  at  the  hand  of  man,  and  would  not 
part  his  lips  for  all  the  captain's  curses.  But  this 
was  only  the  merciful  beginning.  With  yells  of 
savage  fury  the  Indians  carried  brands  to  make  a 
slow  fire  at  his  feet;  and,  lest  that  should  not  be 
enough,  a  brace  of  them  climbed  to  the  roof,  tore 
off  the  splits  for  kindling,  and  set  the  cabin  wall 
alight  behind  him. 

You  may  thank  God,  my  dears,  that  you  are  liv- 
ing in  a  kindlier  age.  Mayhap  the  savage,  now 
a-march  toward  the  setting  sun,  is  still  as  pitiless 
as  he  was;  but  not  in  any  corner  of  the  world,  I 
think,  would  Anglo-Saxon  men,  wearing  the  king's 
or  any  other  uniform,  be  witnesses  unmoved  of  such 
a  devil's  carnival  of  torment  as  this  that  made  me 
nauseate  with  horror. 


A   GAME   OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      161 

As  with  the  stretching  of  the  cord  the  wretched 
black  spun  slowly  round  and  round  before  the 
growing  blaze,  his  cries  were  something  terrible  to 
hear.  And  when  the  fire  light  played  upon  his  face 
it  was  a  sight  to  freeze  the  blood:  the  eyes  shut 
tight  against  the  shriveling  heat,  the  cracking  lips 
drawn  back,  the  black  skin  changing  to  a  dry  and 
sickly  brown.  And  ever  and  anon  between  the 
shrieks  the  parched  lips  shaped  a  plea:  "O  Massa! 
Massa  Cap'm !  shoot  po'  nigga  and  let  um  die !" 

This  plea  for  cruel  kindness  cut  me  to  the  marrow 
of  my  bones ;  and  lacking  means  to  save  his  life,  I 
thought  I  might  at  least  make  shift  to  try  to  put 
him  out  of  misery. 

The  enemy's  dispositions  favored  me.  The 
savages.,  drunk  with  lust  of  blood,  leaped  and  danced 
around  their  victim.  Falconnet  sat  his  horse  apart 
beneath  the  maples,  and  with  his  bodyguard  of 
troopers,  was  well  within  the  borderland  of  lurid 
shadow  where  the  fire  light  mingled  with  the  night. 

I  crept  away  and  made  a  swift  detour  to  the  right 
to  come  behind  the  rearmost  horseman  of  the  troop. 
As  his  ill  luck  would  have  it,  his  horse,  affrighted 
at  the  firelit  pandemonium,  was  in  the  act  of  wheel- 
ing to  run  away.  Being  cumbered  with  a  musket, 
the  man  made  clumsy  work  of  handling  his  mount, 
and  when  the  beast  came  down  in  a  snorting  trem- 
ble to  rear  afresh  at  sight  of  me,  the  man  flung 
away  the  musket  and  drew  his  sword. 

In  cooler  blood  I  might  have  given  him  his  sol- 
dier's chance,  but  here  again  it  was  another's  life 


162       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

or  mine.  Even  so,  I  might  have  fought  him  fair, 
had  he  but  held  his  tongue  and  fought  in  silence. 
But  this  he  would  not,  so  I  had  to  quiet  him  or  have 
the  others  about  my  ears  upon  his  shoutings. 

That  done,  I  snatched  the  musket  that  had  cost 
the  man  his  life,  and,  staying  not  to  see  what  should 
befall,  ran  back  to  cover.  In  the  interval  of  weapon- 
getting  the  fire  against  the  cabin  wall  had  gnawed 
its  way  from  log  to  log  and  now  was  lapping  with 
its  yellow  tongues  beneath  the  eaves.  But  lest  the 
victim  should  not  suffer  long  enough,  the  Indians 
were  at  work  in  yelling  frenzy,  flogging  the  blaze 
with  green  branches  broken  from  the  trees  so  that 
the  fire  itself  should  not  be  merciful. 

I  waited  till  the  slowly  spinning  figure  of  the 
black  should  turn  and  make  a  mark  I  could  not 
miss.  The  pause  gave  space  for  some  swift  steady- 
ing of  the  nerves,  but  with  the  colder  thought  it 
also  brought  a  fierce  and  terrible  temptation.  The 
finger  on  the  musket's  trigger  held  a  life  in  pawn, 
and  I  might  pick  and  choose  and  say  what  life  I'd 
take. 

I  glanced  aside  at  Falconnet.  He  was  a  fairer 
mark  than  my  poor  Tomas,  and  by  the  laws  of  God 
and  man  had  earned  his  death.  The  tortured  slave 
had  little  time  to  suffer  at  the  worst,,  and  with  the 
bullet  that  would  give  him  surcease  I  could  well 
avenge  him.  More  than  this;  that  bullet  planted 
in  my  enemy's  heart  would  save  my  lady  Margery 
harmless,  leaving  me  free  to  go  to  my  own  place 
and  so  to  right  the  wrong  that  I  had  done. 


A   GAME   OF   ROUGE-ET-NOIR      163 

All  in  the  pivoting  instant  of  the  pause  the  musket 
swung  slowly  round  as  of  its  own  volition,  and 
through  its  sights  I  saw  the  slashings,  gold  on 
red,  across  the  breasting  of  his  captain's  riding 
coat.  One  little  crooking  of  the  trigger-finger  and 
the  lead  had  gone  upon  its  errand.  But  at  the  bal- 
ancing instant  that  piteous  cry  was  lifted  once 
again:  "O  Massa!  Massa  Cap'm!  God  'a'  mussy — 
shoot  po'  nigga  and  let  'um  die !" 

I  did  as  any  other  man  would  do,  as  you  have 
guessed.  The  great  king's  musket  swept  another 
arc,  and  roared  and  belched  and  spat  its  messenger 
of  death;  and  my  poor  Tomas  had  the  boon  he 
prayed  for. 

And  then,  as  if  the  musket  flash  and  roar  had 
been  a  lodestone  and  these  fierce  Cherokees  so  many 
bits  of  steel  to  cluster  thick  upon  it,  I  was  sur- 
rounded in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  whizzing 
hatchets  and  rifle  bullets  whining  sibilant  were  but 
an  earnest  of  the  fate  I  had  invited. 


XV 

IN  WHICH  A  HATCHET  SINGS  A  MAN  TO  SLEEP 

In  such  a  coil  as  this  I'd  looped  about  me  there 
was  nothing  for  it,  as  it  seemed,  but  to  draw  the 
steel  and  die  as  a  soldier  should.  So  I  broke  cover 
on  the  forest  side  of  the  holly  thicket  with  a  yell  as 
fierce  as  theirs,  and  picked  a  tree  to  set  my  back 
against,  and  ran  for  it. 

I  never  reached  the  tree.  In  mid  career,  when  all 
the  Cherokee  wolf  pack  was  bursting  through  the 
holly  tangle  at  my  heels,  two  men,  a  white  man  and 
an  Indian,  ran  in  ahead,  as  I  supposed  to  cut  me  off. 
Just  then  the  dry  roof  of  the  hunting  lodge  roared 
aflame,  reddening  the  forest  far  and  near.  The  light 
was  at  my  back  and  on  the  faces  of  the  two  who 
ran  to  meet  me.  A  great  sob  swelled  in  my  throat 
and  choked  me,  but  I  ran  the  faster.  For  these  were 
my  dear  lad  and  the  friendly  Catawba,  charging 
gallantly  to  cover  my  retreat. 

It  was  a  ready  help  in  time  of  need.    They  ran  in 

bravely,  the  chief  ahead,  twirling  his  tomahawk  for 

the  throw,  with  Dick  a  pace  to  right  and  rear,  his 

two  great  pistols  brandished  and  the  grandsire  of 

164 


A   HATCHET   SINGS   TO   SLEEP     165 

all  the  broadswords  dangling  by  a  thong  at  his 
wrist. 

"Follow  the  chief!"  he  shouted  in  passing;  and 
at  the  word  the  Catawba  stopped  short,  sent  his 
hatchet  whistling  into  the  yapping  pack  behind  me, 
and  swerved  to  run  aside  and  point  the  way  for  me. 

Left  to  myself,  I  hope  I  should  have  had  the 
grace  to  stand  with  Jennifer.  But  at  the  turning 
point  of  indecision  the  quick-witted  Indian  read  my 
thought,  and  snatching  the  sword  from  my  hand, 
gave  me  no  choice  but  to  follow  him. 

So  I  ran  with  him ;  but  as  I  fled  I  looked  behind 
and  saw  a  sight  to  put  the  ancient  hero  tales  to  the 
blush.  One  man  against  two-score  my  brave  Dick 
stood,  while  through  the  underwood  the  mounted 
soldiery  came  to  make  the  odds  still  greater. 

He  never  flinched  for  all  the  hurtling  missiles  sent 
on  ahead  to  cut  him  down,  nor  gave  a  glance  aside 
to  where  the  horsemen  were  deploying  to  surround 
him.  As  I  looked,  the  two  great  pistols  belched  in 
the  very  faces  of  the  nearest  Cherokees ;  and  in 
the  momentary  check  the  firearms  made,  the  basket- 
hilted  claymore  went  to  work,  rising  and  falling 
like  a  weaver's  beam. 

I  saw  no  more ;  but  some  heart-bursting  minutes 
later,  when  Jennifer  came  racing  on  behind  to  share 
the  flight  his  heroic  stand  had  made  a  possibility,  the 
swelling  sob  choked  me  once  again ;  and  when  I 
thought  of  what  this  his  rescue  of  me  meant  to  him, 
I  could  have  blubbered  like  a  boy. 

But  there  was  little  time  or  space  to  give  re- 


166       THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY 

morse  an  inning.  The  Cherokees,  checked  but  for 
the  moment,  were  storming  hotly  at  our  heels.  And 
as  we  ran  I  heard  the  shouted  command  of  Falcon- 
net  to  his  mounted  men:  "A  rescue!  Right  ob- 
lique, and  head  them  in  the  road!  Gallop,  you 
devils!" 

We  ran  in  Indian  file,  I  at  the  chief's  heels  and 
Jennifer  at  mine.  I  followed  the  Catawba  blindly ; 
and  being  as  yet  little  better  than  half  a  man  in 
breath  and  muscle,  was  well-nigh  spent  before  we 
crashed  down  through  a  tangled  briar  thicket  into 
the  river  road. 

We  were  in  time,  but  with  no  fraction  of  a 
minute  to  spare.  We  could  hear  the  pad-pad-pad 
of  the  light-footed  runners  close  upon  us,  following 
now  by  the  noise  we  made;  and  on  our  left  the  air 
was  trembling  to  the  thunder  of  the  mounted  men 
coming  at  a  break-neck  gallop  down  the  road. 

"Thank  God!"  says  Richard,  with  a  quick  eye- 
shot to  right  and  left  in  the  lesser  gloom  of  the  open. 
"I  was  afeard  even  the  chief  might  miss  the  place  in 
the  dark.  Down  the  bank  to  the  river! — quick, 
man,  and  cautious !  If  they  smell  us  out  now,  we're 
no  better  than  buzzard-meat!"  And  when  we 
reached  the  water's  edge :  "You  taught  me  how  to 
paddle  a  pirogue,  Jack ;  I  hope  you  haven't  lost  the 
knack  of  it  yourself." 

"No,"  said  I ;  and  the  three  of  us  slid  the  hollowed 
log  into  the  stream. 

We  were  afloat  in  shortest  order,  holding  the 
canoe  against  the  current  by  clinging  to  the  over- 


A   HATCHET   SINGS   TO   SLEEP     167 

hanging  trees  that  fringed  the  bank ;  yet  with  pad- 
dles poised  for  a  second  dash  for  freedom  should 
the  need  arise.  I  should  have  dipped  forthwith  to 
save  the  precious  minutes,  but  Jennifer  stayed  me. 

"Hist!"  he  whispered.  "Hold  steady  and  listen. 
They  can  not  see  us  from  above;  mayhap  we've 
thrown  them  off  the  scent." 

I  thought  it  most  unlikely;  but  his  guess  was 
right  and  mine  was  wrong.  Though  any  of  these 
savages  could  lift  a  trail  in  daylight,  following  it 
at  top  speed  like  a  trained  blood-hound,  yet  now 
the  darkness  baffled  them. 

So  there  was  some  running  to  and  fro  in  the  road 
above  our  heads,  and  then  the  troopers  galloped 
down.  Followed  hastily  a  labored  confab  through 
the  linguister,  broken  in  the  midst  by  a  fury  of  hot 
oaths  from  Falconnet ;  and  then  the  chase  swept  on 
toward  the  plantations,  and  we  were  left  to  make 
their  losing  of  us  sure  by  whatsoever  means  we 
chose. 

We  paddled  slowly  up  stream  in  silence,  keeping 
well  within  the  blacker  shadow  of  the  tree  fringe. 
When  we  came  opposite  the  glowing  ruins  of  the 
hunting  lodge,  Jennifer  backed  upon  his  paddle. 

"You'll  go  ashore?"  said  he. 

I  said  I  would,  adding :  "They  have  slaughtered 
poor  old  Darius,  and  I  am  loath  to  leave  his  bones 
for  the  buzzards  to  pick." 

He  made  no  comment  other  than  to  swear  in  sym- 
pathy. When  the  pirogue  grounded,  the  Indian 
was  out  like  a  cat,  to  vanish  phantom-wise  among 


168       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

the  trees.  I  followed  in  some  clumsier  fashion, 
leaving  Jennifer  to  keep  the  canoe;  but  half  way 
up  the  hill  he  joined  me,  and  would  not  turn  back 
for  all  my  urging.  "No;  hang  me  if  I'll  let  you 
out  of  eye-grip  again,"  was  all  he  would  say;  and 
so  we  went  together,  and  were  together  at  the  see- 
ing of  what  the  glowing  ember-heap  would  show 
us. 

Poor  Tomas  had  his  sepulture  already.  His  cord 
had  burned  in  two  and  let  him  down  so  close  beside 
the  cabin  wall  that  all  the  blazing  debris  from  the 
overhanging  eaves  had  made  his  funeral  pile.  Da- 
rius lay  as  I  had  last  seen  him ;  and  him  we  buried 
in  the  maize  clearing  at  the  back,  with  the  ember 
glow  for  funeral  lights. 

It  was  a  chanceful  thing  to  do.  Since  the  Chero- 
kees  had  left  their  dead  and  wounded,  and  Falcon- 
net  the  body  of  his  trooper  who  had  yielded  me  the 
musket,  there  was  small  doubt  they  would  return. 
Yet  we  had  time  to  dig  a  shallow  grave  for  my  old 
henchman ;  to  dig  and  fill  it  up  again ;  and  afterward 
to  make  a  circuit  round  the  burning  pile  to  reach  the 
river  side  once  more. 

When  we  had  launched  the  canoe,  and  were  afloat 
and  ready  for  the  start,  the  Catawba  was  still 
missing. 

"Where  is  the  chief,  think  you?"  I  asked;  but 
Dick's  answer,  if,  indeed,  he  gave  me  any,  was  lost 
in  a  chorus  of  ear  splitting  yells  rending  the  silence 
of  the  night  like  demon  cries.  Then  a  single  ulula- 
tion,  long  drawn  and  fair  blood  chilling,  answered 


A   HATCHET    SINGS    TO   SLEEP     169 

back,  and  Jennifer  swept  the  pirogue  stern  to  strand 
with  a  quick  paddle  stroke. 

"That  last  \vas  Uncanoola's  war  cry;  they've 
doubled  back  in  time  to  catch  him  at  it!"  he  cried. 
"Stand  by  to  drive  her  when  I  give  the  word !  Here 
he  comes  P 

Down  the  sloping  hillside,  looking,  in  the  red 
glow  of  the  ember  heap,  more  like  a  flying  demon 
than  a  man,  came  the  Catawba,  one  hand  gripping 
the  scalping-knife,  the  other  flung  aloft  to  flaunt 
his  terrible  trophies  in  sight  of  his  pursuers.  They 
were  so  close  upon  him  that  waiting  promised  death 
for  all  of  us ;  so  Jennifer  dipped  again  to  send  the 
canoe  a  broad  jump  from  the  bank. 

"Ready  P  he  cried.  "He'll  take  the  water  like  a 
fish,  and  we  can  pick  him  up  afterward — Now!" 

I  heard  the  clean-cut  dive  of  the  Indian,  and 
struck  the  paddle  deep  to  balance  Jennifer's  stroke. 
But  as  I  bent  to  put  my  back  into  it,  some  flying 
missile  caught  me  fair  behind  the  ear,  and  but  for 
Jennifer's  quick  wit  I  should  have  swamped  the 
crazy  shallop.  In  a  flash  he  jerked  me  flat  between 
his  knees  and  sent  the  pirogue  with  a  mighty  thrust 
beyond  the  zone  of  fire  light. 

At  that,  though  all  the  sense  was  beaten  out  of 
me,  I  was  alive  enough  to  hear  the  savage  yells  of 
disappointed  rage  behind  us ;  these  and  the  spitting 
crackle  of  a  dozen  rifles  fired  at  random  in  the 
darkness.  But  afterward  all  sounds,  save  the  rhyth- 
mic dip  and  drip  of  Jennifer's  paddle,  faded  on  the 
sense  of  hearing  till,  as  it  would  seem,  this  gentle 


i/o       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

monody  of  dipping  blade  and  tinkling  drops  became 
a  crooning  lullaby  to  blot  out  all  the  years  that  lay 
between,  and  make  me  once  again  a  little  child 
sinking  asleep  in  my  young  mother's  arms. 


XVI 

HOW   JENNIFER   THREW   A   MAIN    WITH    DEATH 

Tis  a  sure  mark  of  healthful  sleep  that  it  never 
makes  account  of  time.  No  odds  how  long  the 
night,  'tis  but  a  moment  from  the  lapse  of  con- 
sciousness to  its  recovery  in  the  morning.  But 
this  deep  sleep  that  crept  upon  me  as  I  lay  in  the 
pirogue,  listening  to  the  tinkling  drip  from  Jenni- 
fer's paddle,  was  not  of  healthful  weariness;  and 
when  I  came  awake  from  it  there  was  a  dim  and 
troubled  vista  of  vague  and  broken  dreams  to  meas- 
ure off  the  longest  night  I  could  ever  remember. 

The  place  of  this  awakening  was  a  burrow  in  the 
earth.  My  bed  of  bearskins  over  fragrant  pine- 
tufts  was  spread  upon  the  ground,  and  by  the 
flickering  light  of  a  handful  of  fire  I  could  see 
the  earth  walls  of  the  burrow,  which  were  worn 
smooth  as  if  the  place  had  been  the  well-used  den 
of  some  wild  creature.  But  overhead  there  was 
the  mark  of  human  occupancy,  since  the  earth-arch 
was  sooted  and  blackened  with  the  reek  of  many 
fires. 

When  I  stirred  there  was  another  stir  beyond  the 
171 


172       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

handful  of  fire,  and  Jennifer  came  to  kneel  beside 
me,  taking  my  hand  and  chafing-  it  as  a  tender- 
hearted woman  might,  and  asking  if  I  knew  him. 

"Know  you?  Why  should  I  not?"  I  said,  won- 
dering why  the  words  took  so  many  breaths  be- 
tween. 

"O  Jack !"  was  all  I  had  in  answer ;  but  when  he 
had  found  a  tongue  to  babble  out  his  joy,  I  learned 
the  why  and  wherefore.  Once  more  grim  death 
had  reached  for  me,  lying  await  in  the  twirled  toma- 
hawk that  set  me  dreaming  of  my  mother's  lap 
and  lullaby.  For  a  week  I  had  lain  here  upon  the 
bed  of  pine-tufts,  poised  upon  the  brink  of  the  death 
pit  with  only  my  dear  lad  to  hold  and  draw  me  back. 

"A  week?"  I  queried,  when  he  had  named  the 
interval.  "And  you  have  been  here  all  the  time?" 

"I've  never  left  you,  save  to  forage  for  the  pot," 
he  admitted.  "I  dared  not  leave  you,  Jack." 

"But  where  are  we  ?"  I  would  ask. 

"In  a  den  on  the  river's  edge,  a  mile  or  more 
above  your  sacked  cabin.  'Tis  some  dodge-hole 
hollowed  out  by  the  Catawbas  long  ago  and  shared 
since  by  them  and  the  bears,  judging  from  the 
stinking  reek  of  it.  Uncanoola  steered  me  hither 
the  night  of  the  raid." 

"Then  the  chief  came  off  safely?"  I  said,  falling 
into  a  dumb  and  impotent  rage  that  the  saying  of 
two  words  should  scant  me  so  of  strength  to  say  a 
third. 

"Right  as  a  trivet — scalps  and  all,"  laughed  Jen- 
nifer. "He'll  be  the  envy  of  every  warrior  in  the 


A   MAIN   WITH   DEATH  173 

tribe  when  he  vaunts  himself  at  the  Catawbas'  coun- 
cil fire." 

I  let  it  rest  a  while  at  that,  casting  about  for 
words  to  shape  a  hungrier  question. 

"Have  you  no  news  ?"  I  asked,  at  length. 

"Little  or  none,"  he  answered  shortly. 

"But  you  have  had  some  word — some  news — 
from  Appleby  Hundred  ?"  I  stammered  feebly. 

"Nothing  you'd  care  to  hear,"  he  rejoined,  eva- 
sively, I  thought.  "  'Tis  as  you  left  it,  save  that 
Tarleton  whipped  away  to  the  south  again  as  sud- 
denly as  he  came,  and  our  cursing  baronet  has  made 
the  manor  house  his  headquarters  in  fact,  lodging 
himself  and  all  his  troop  on  Mr.  Stair.  From  his 
lying  quiet  and  keeping  the  Cherokees  in  tow,  there 
will  be  some  deviltry  afoot,  I'll  warrant." 

I  knew  that  Falconnet  was  waiting  for  the  powder 
cargo,  but  another  matter  crowded  this  aside. 

"But — but  Margery?"  I  queried,  on  sharpest 
tenter-hooks  to  know  how  much  or  little  he  had 
heard. 

I  thought  his  brow  darkened  at  the  question,  but 
mayhap  it  was  only  a  shadow  cast  by  the  flickering 
fire.  At  any  rate,  he  laughed  hardily. 

"She  is  well — and  well  content,  I  dare  swear. 
'Twas  only  yesterday  I  saw  her  taking  the  air  on 
the  river  road,  with  Falconnet  for  an  escort.  You 
told  me  once  Ke  had  a  sure  hand  with  the  women 
and  it  made  me  mad ;  but,  truly,  I  have  come  to  think 
you  drew  it  mild,  Jack." 

NOW  though  I  qould  ply  a  decent  ready  blade, 


174       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

or  keep  a  firing  line  from  lurching  at  a  pinch,  I 
had  not  learned  to  put  a  snaffle  on  a  blundering 
tongue,  as  I  have  said  before. 

"Damn  him  as  you  please,  Dick,  and  he'll  war- 
rant it.  But  you  must  not  judge  the  lady  over 
harshly,  nor  always  by  appearances.  She  may  have 
flouted  you  as  a  boyish  lover,  and  yet  I  think — " 

I  stopped  in  sheer  bewilderment,  shot  through 
and  through  with  keenest  agonies  of  remorseful 
recollection.  For  at  the  moment  I  had  clean  for- 
got the  gulf  impassable  I  had  set  between  these 
two.  So  I  would  have  lapsed  into  shamed  silence, 
but  Jennifer  would  not  suffer  it. 

"Well,  what  is  it  that  you  think?"  he  demanded. 

"I  think — nay,  I  may  say  I  know  that  she  thinks 
well  of  you,  Dick,"  I  blundered  on,  seeing  no  way 
to  put  him  off. 

He  gripped  my  hand,  and  in  his  eyes  there  was 
the  light  of  the  old  love  reawakening. 

"Don't  lift  me  up  to  fling  me  down  again,  Jack! 
How  can  you  know  what  she  thinks  of  me?"  he 
broke  in,  eagerly. 

I  should  have  told  him  then  all  there  was  to 
tell.  He  had  been  thrice  my  savior,  and  his  heart 
was  soft  and  malleable  on  the  side  of  friendship. 
I  knew  it — knew  that  the  pregnant  moment  for  full 
confession  had  arrived;  and  yet  I  could  not  force 
my  tongue  to  shape  the  words.  Indeed,  I  saw  more 
clearly  than  before  that  never  any  word  of  mine 
could  make  him  understand  that  I  was  not  a  faith- 


A   MAIN   WITH   DEATH  175 

less  traitor  in  intention.  So  I  paltered  with  the 
truth,  like  any  wretched  coward  of  them  all. 

"You  forget  that  I  have  come  to  know  her  well," 
I  said.  "I  was  a  month  or  more  under  the  same 
roof  with  her,  and  in  that  time  she  told  me  many 
things." 

Now,  this  witless  speech  was  no  better  than  a 
whip  to  flog  him  on. 

"What  things  ?"  he  questioned,  promptly. 

"Oh,  many  things.     She  spoke  often  of  you." 

"What  did  she  say  of  me,  Jack?  Tell  me  what 
she  said,"  he  begged.  "It  can  make  no  difference 
now ;  she  is  less  than  nothing  to  me — nay,  'tis  even 
worse  than  that,  since  she  would  play  Delilah  if 
she  could.  But  oh,  Jack,  I  love  her! — I  should 
love  her  if  I  stood  on  the  gallows  and  she  stood  by 
to  spring  the  drop  and  turn  me  off !" 

Truly,  if  the  lash  of  remorse  had  lacked  its  keen- 
est thong,  this  passionate  outburst  of  his  would 
have  added  it.  None  the  less,  I  must  needs  be 
weaker  than  water  and  fall  back  another  step  and 
put  him  off. 

"Another  time,  Richard.  I  am  strangely  un- 
nerved and  dizzy-headed  now.  By  and  by,  when 
I  am  stronger,  I  will  tell  you  all." 

Taking  a  reproach  where  none  was  meant,  he 
sprang  up  with  a  self-aimed  malison  upon  his  lack 
of  care  for  me,  stirred  the  fire  alive  and  brewed  me 
a  most  delicious-smelling  cup  of  broth.  And  after- 
ward, when  I  had  drunk  the  broth  with  some  small 


176       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

beckonings  of  returning  appetite,  he  spread  his  coat 
to  screen  me  from  the  fire  light  and  would  have 
driven  me  to  sleep  again. 

"At  any  rate,  you  shall  not  talk,"  he  promised. 
"If  you  are  wakeful  I  will  talk  to  you  and  tell  you 
what  little  I  have  gleaned  about  the  fighting." 

His  news  was  chiefly  a  later  repetition  of  Father 
Matthieu's  and  Captain  Abram  Forney's,  but  there 
was  this  to  add:  the  Congress  had  appointed  the 
Englishman,  Horatio  Gates,  chief  of  the  army  in 
the  South,  and  this  new  leader  was  on  his  way  to 
take  command. 

De  Kalb,  with  the  Maryland  and  Delaware  lines 
and  Colonel  Armand's  legion,  was  encamped  on 
Deep  River,  waiting  for  the  newly-appointed  gen- 
eral ;  and  Caswell  and  Griffith  Rutherford,  with  the 
militia,  were  already  pressing  forward  to  some 
handgrips  with  my  Lord  Cornwallis  in  the  South. 

Nearer  at  hand,  the  partizan  war-fire  flamed 
afresh  wherever  a  Tory  company  met  a  patriot,  and 
there  were  wicked  doings,  more  like  savage  massa- 
cres than  fair-fought  battles  of  the  soldier  sort. 

When  he  had  made  an  end  of  his  small  war 
budget,  I  set  him  on  to  tell  me  how  he  came  to  be 
at  hand  to  help  me  so  in  the  nick  of  time  on  the 
night  of  the  cabin  sack. 

"  'Twas  partly  chance,"  he  said.  "A  redcoat 
troop  had  me  in  durance  at  Jennifer  House,  and 
while  they  affected  to  hold  me  at  parole,  I  never 
gave  consent  to  that,  and  so  was  kept  a  prisoner. 
They  shut  me  in  the  wine-bin  with  a  guard,  and 


A   MAIN    WITH   DEATH  177 

when  the  fellow  was  well  soaked  and  silly,  I  bound 
and  gagged  him  and  broke  jail.  I  took  the  river 
for  it,  meaning  to  outlie  until  the  hue  and  cry  was 
over;  and  just  at  dusk  Uncanoola  dropped  upon  me 
and  told  me  of  your  need.  From  that  to  helping 
him  cut  you  out  of  your  raffle  with  the  Cherokees 
was  but  a  hand's  turn  in  the  day's  work." 

"A  lucky  turn  for  me,"  I  said ;  and  then  at  second 
thought  I  would  deny  the  saying,  though  not  for 
him  to  hear.  But  this  was  dangerous  ground  again, 
and  I  clawed  off  from  it  like  a  desperate  mariner 
tempest-driven  on  a  lee  shore;  asking  him  how  he 
had  learned  the  broadsword  play,  and  where  he  got 
the  antique  claymore. 

He  laughed  heartily,  and  more  like  my  care-free 
Dick,  this  time. 

"Thereby  hangs  a  tale.  I  told  you  how  I  was  out 
with  the  Minute  Men  in  '76  at  Moore's  Creek,  where 
we  fought  the  Scotchmen.  It  was  our  first  pitched 
battle,  and  I  opine  it  smelled  somewhat  of  severity 
on  both  sides — no  quarter  wras  asked,  and  the  Tory 
MacDonalds  fought  like  fiends  for  King  George, 
small  cause  as  they  had  to  love  the  House  of  Han- 
over." 

"How  was  that?''  I  would  ask,  being  as  little 
familiar  with  the  low  country  settlements  as  any 
native-born  Carolinian  could  be. 

"They  were  expatriates  for  the  Pretender's  sake, 
many  of  them.  Mistress  Flora's  husband  was  one 
of  the  prisoners  we  took.  But,  as  I  was  saying, 
they  were  Tories  to  a  man,  and  they  fought  wicked- 


i;8       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY, 

ly.  When  it  was  over,  the  prisoners  would  have 
fared  hardly  but  for  a  woman.  In  the  thick  of  the 
fight,  Mistress  Mary  Slocumb,  of  Dobbs,  whose 
husband  was  with  us,  came  storming  down  upon  the 
field,  having  rode  a-gallop  some  forty-odd  miles 
because  she  dreamed  her  goodman  was  killed.  She 
begged  for  the  prisoners,  and  so  Caswell  hanged 
only  those  who  were  blood  guilty — these  and  the 
house  burners.  A  raw-boned  piper  named  M'Gilli- 
cuddy  fell  to  my  lot,  and  he  is  now  my  majordomo 
at  Jennifer  House ;  as  honest  a  fellow  as  ever  skirled 
a  pibroch." 

"That  was  like  you,"  I  said;  "  to  make  a  friend 
and  retainer  out  of  your  prisoner.  And  so  this 
Highland  piper  has  been  your  fencing  master, 
has  he?" 

"  'Twas  he  taught  me  what  little  I  know  of  the 
claymore  play ;  and  this  stout  old  blade  is  his.  Tis 
as  good  as  a  woodman's  ax  when  you  have  the 
knack  of  swinging  it." 

"Truly,"  said  I.  "Also,  you  seemed  to  have  the 
knack,  and  the  strength  as  well,  in  spite  of  the 
crippled  arm  you  were  carrying  in  a  sling  the  night 
before  when  they  haled  you  into  Colonel  Tarleton's 
court  at  Appleby." 

"A  little  ruse  of  war,"  he  said,  laughing  and  mak- 
ing a  fist  to  show  me  his  arm  was  strong  and  sound 
again.  "  'Twas  M'Gillicuddy  put  me  up  to  it,  say- 
ing they  would  be  like  to  deal  the  gentler  with  a 
wounded  man.  But  how  came  you  to  know?" 

Here  was  another  chance  to  tell  him  what  he 


A   MAIN    WITH    DEATH  179 

should  be  told,  but  the  words  would  not  say  them- 
selves. 

"I  stood  within  arm's  reach  of  you  that  night," 
said  I ;  and  from  that  I  hastened  swiftly  through 
the  story  of  my  trial  as  a  spy  and  what  it  came  to  in 
the  morning,  and  never  mentioned  Margery's  part 
in  it  at  all. 

"You  have  a  bitter  enemy  in  Frank  Falconnet," 
was  his  comment,  when  I  had  made  an  end  of  this 
recounting  of  my  adventures.  "He  knows  you  are 
in  hiding  hereabouts,  and  has  been  scouring  the 
neighborhood  well  for  you — or,  more  belike,  for 
both  of  us." 

"How  do  you  know  this  ?"  I  asked. 

"I  have  both  seen  and  heard.  This  den  of  ours 
opens  on  the  river's  edge,  and,  two  days  since,  his 
Indians  came  within  an  ace  of  nabbing  me.  'Twas 
just  at  dusk,  and  I  made  out  to  dodge  them  by 
doubling  past  in  the  canoe." 

"But  you  say  you  have  heard,  as  well  ?" 

"Yes." 

"How?" 

"Don't  ask  me,  Jack." 

I  said  I  had  no  right  to  ask  more  than  he  chose 
to  tell ;  and  at  this  he  blurted  out  an  oath  and  let 
me  have  the  sharp-edged  truth. 

"Falconnet  has  an  ally  whose  wit  is  shrewder 
than  his.  Can  you  guess  who  it  is  ?" 

"No." 

"  'Tis  this  same  Madge  Stair  you  have  been  de- 
fending, Jack,"  he  said,  bitterly.  "It  seems  that 


180       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

Falconnet  made  sure  we  had  both  gone  to  join  the 
army,  which  was  but  natural.  If  she  were  less  than 
the  spiteful  little  Tory  vixen  that  she  is,  she  would 
have  been  content  to  let  it  rest  so.  But  she  would 
not  let  it  rest  so.  With  her  own  lips  she  assured 
Falconnet  he  still  had  us  to  reckon  with ;  nay, 
more — she  made  a  boast  of  it  that  we  would  never 
go  so  far  away  from  her." 

Weak  and  fever-shaken  as  I  was,  I  yet  made  shift 
to  get  upon  my  elbow  feebly  fierce,  denouncing  it 
hotly  for  a  lie. 

"Who  slandered  her  like  this,  Dick  ?  Put  a  name 
to  the  cur,  and  as  I  live  and  get  my  strength  again, 
I'll  hunt  him  down  and  choke  him  with  that  lie !" 

"Nay,"  he  objected  soberly;  "that  would  be  my 
quarrel,  were  there  ever  a  peg  to  hang  a  quarrel 
on.  But  it  came  by  a  sure  hand,  and  one  that  is 
friendly  enough  to  all  concerned.  An  old  free 
borderer,  Ephraim  Yeates  by  name,  brought  me  the 
tale.  He  had  been  spying  round  at  Appleby  Hun- 
dred, wanting  to  know,  for  some  purpose  of  his 
own,  why  the  redcoats  and  Cherokees  were  hanging 
on  so  long;  and  this  much  he  overheard  one  night 
when  he  was  outlying  under  the  window  of  the 
withdrawing-room.  He  says  she  was  in  a  pretty 
passion  at  the  baronet's  slackness,  stamping  her  foot 
at  him  and  lashing  him  with  the  taunt  that  he  was 
afeard  of  one  or  both  of  us." 

I  fell  back  on  the  bearskins  to  shut  my  eyes  and 
call  up  all  the  might  of  love  to  grapple  with  this 
fresh  misery.  It  was  in  this  fierce  conflict  of  faith 


A   MAIN   WITH   DEATH  181 

against  apparent  fact  that  I  descried  the  parting 
of  the  ways  for  the  lover  and  the  husband. 

Jennifer  believed  this  most  incredible  thing,  and 
yet  he  loved  her — would  go  on  loving  her,  as  he 
had  said,  in  spite  of  all.  That  was  the  lover's  road, 
and  I  could  never  bear  him  company  on  it.  Could 
I  believe  her  so  pitiless  cruel  as  this,  I  made  sure 
no  husband-love  could  live  beyond  that  moment  of 
conviction. 

But  at  this  perilous  pass  the  husband's  road  ran 
truer  than  the  lover's.  Richard  believed  her  capa- 
ble of  this  hard-hearted  thing  and  went  on  loving 
her  blindly  in  spite  of  it.  But  as  for  me,  I  said  I 
would  never  give  belief  an  inch  of  standing-room ; 
that  had  I  stood  in  Ephraim  Yeates's  shoes,  having 
the  witness  of  my  own  eyes  and  ears,  I  would  still 
have  found  excuse  and  exculpation  for  her. 

I  stole  a  glance  at  Jennifer.  He  was  sitting  with 
his  face  in  his  hands,  a  silent  figure  of  a  strong  man 
humbled.  He  had  called  her  a  Delilah,  and  the 
green  withes  of  her  binding  cut  sore  into  the  flesh. 

"You  say  you  love  her,  Dick ;  can  you  believe  her 
capable  of  this,  and  yet  go  on  loving  her  ?"  I  asked. 

He  let  me  see  his  face.  It  was  haggard  and  grief- 
marred. 

"I'd  pay  the  devil's  own  price  could  I  say  'no' 
to  that,  Jack.  But  I  can  not." 

"Then  I  swear  I  love  her  better  than  you  do, 
Richard  Jennifer.  She  hates  me  well — God  knows 
she  has  good  cause  to  hate  me  fiercely ;  yet  I  would 
trust  her  with  my  life." 


182       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

I  looked  to  see  him  pin  me  down  at  this ;  and 
though  the  words  had  fairly  shaped  and  said  them- 
selves, I  laid  fast  hold  of  my  courage  and  was  pre- 
pared to  make  them  good.  But  he  would  only  smile 
and  draw  the  bearskin  cover  over  me,  tucking  me 
in  as  tenderly  as  a  mother,  and  saying  very  gently : 

"So  she  has  bewitched  you,  too;  and  now  there 
are  two  poor  fools  of  love  instead  of  one.  But  you 
are  stronger  than  I,  Jack.  You  will  break  the  spell 
and  put  it  down  and  live  beyond  it,  and  that  I  never 
shall — God  help  me!"  And  with  that,  he  went  to 
his  own  bed  beside  the  fire,  telling  me  I  must  lie 
quiet  and  try  to  sleep. 

I  did  lie  quiet,  but  sleep  came  not,  nor  did  I 
woo  it.  For  long  past  the  time  when  I  could  hear 
his  measured  breathing,  I  lay  awake  to  plan  how  I 
might  draw  the  baronet's  man-hunt  to  myself,  and 
so  free  my  loyal  Richard  of  the  peril  that  by  rights 
was  mine. 


XVII 

SHOWING  HOW  LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP 

For  some  few  days  after  Jennifer's  narrow  escape 
at  the  entrance  to  our  hiding  place,  the  Cherokees 
were  hot  upon  our  scent,  quartering  the  forest  on 
both  banks  of  the  river,  determined,  as  it  seemed, 
to  hunt  or  starve  us  out. 

It  was  in  this  time  of  siege  that  I  came  to  know, 
as  I  had  not  known  before,  the  depth  and  tender- 
ness of  my  dear  lad's  love  for  me.  While  the  life- 
tide  was  at  its  ebb  and  I  was  querulous  and  helpless 
weak,  he  was  my  leech  and  nurse  and  heartening 
friend  in  one.  And  later,  when  the  tide  was  fairly 
turned  and  I  had  found  my  soldier's  appetite  again, 
he  spent  many  of  the  nights  abroad  and  never  let 
me  guess  what  risks  he  ran  to  fetch  me  dainties  from 
the  outer  world. 

In  this  night  raiding  no  danger  was  too  great  to 
hold  him  back  from  serving  me.  Once,  when  we 
were  washing  down  our  evening  meal  of  meat  and 
maize  cake  with  plain  cold  water,  I  mourned  the 
good  wine  idling  in  its  bin  at  Jennifer  House.  At 
that,  without  a  word  to  me,  he  took  the  whole  night 
183 


184       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

for  a  perilous  adventure  and  fetched  a  dozen  bot- 
tles of  the  Jennifer  port  to  make  me  choke  and 
strangle  at  the  thought  of  what  its  bringing  had 
cost  in  toil  and  hazard. 

Another  time  I  spoke  of  English  beef,  saying  how 
it  would  rebuild  a  man  at  need — how  it  had  made 
the  English  soldier  what  he  is.  Whereupon,  as 
before,  my  loving  forager  took  a  hint  where  none 
was  intended ;  was  gone  the  night  long,  and  slaugh- 
tered me  some  Tory  yearling, — 'twas  Mr.  Gilbert 
Stair's,  I  mistrusted,  though  Dick  would  never  name 
the  owner,  and  so  I  had  a  sirloin  to  my  breakfast. 

In  these  and  many  other  ways  he  spent  himself 
freely  for  love  of  me.  If  he  had  been  a  younger 
brother  of  my  own  blood  the  common  parentage 
could  not  have  made  him  tenderer. 

'Twas  not  the  mere  outgushing  of  a  nature  open- 
armed  to  make  a  bosom  friend  of  all  the  world; 
nor  any  feminine  softness  on  his  part.  If  I  have 
drawn  him  thus  my  pen  is  but  a  clumsy  quill,  for 
he  was  manly-rough  and  masterful,  with  all  the 
native  strength  and  vigor  of  the  border-born. 

But  on  the  side  of  love  and  friendship  no  woman 
ever  had  a  truer  heart,  a  keener  eye  or  a  lighter 
hand.  And  in  a  service  for  friend  or  mistress  he 
would  spend  himself  as  recklessly  as  those  old 
knights  you  read  about  who  made  a  business  of  their 
chivalry. 

With  his  daily  offerings  of  unselfishness  to  shame 
me,  you  may  be  sure  that  I  was  flayed  alive;  self- 
flogged  like  a  miserable  monk,  with  all  the  wound- 


LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP    185 

ings  of  the  whip  well  salted  by  remorse.  As  you 
have  guessed,  I  had  not  yet  summoned  up  the  cour- 
age to  tell  him  how  I  had  staked  his  chance  of  hap- 
piness upon  a  casting  of  the  die  of  fate — staked 
and  lost  it.  Now  that  it  was  gone,  I  saw  how  I  had 
missed  the  golden  opportunity;  how  I  had  weakly 
hesitated  when  delay  could  only  make  the  telling 
harder. 

By  tacit  consent  we  never  spoke  of  Margery. 
Richard's  silence  hung  upon  despair,  I  thought; 
and  as  for  mine,  since  the  husband's  road  and  the 
lover's  lay  so  far  apart,  I  could  not  bring  myself 
to  speak  of  her.  But  she  was  always  first  in  my 
thoughts  in  that  time  of  convalescence,  as  I  made 
sure  she  was  in  his ;  and  at  the  last  the  hidden  thing 
between  us  was  brought  to  light. 

It  was  on  a  night  some  three  weeks  or  more 
after  my  fever  turn.  Our  larder  had  run  low 
again,  and  Jennifer  had  spent  the  earlier  hours  of 
the  night  abroad — to  little  purpose,  as  it  chanced. 
'Twas  midnight  or  thereabouts  when  he  came  swear- 
ing in  to  tell  me  that  the  Tories  were  out  again 
to  harry  our  side  of  the  river  afresh,  and  to  make  a 
refugee's  begging  of  a  bag  of  meal  a  thing  of  peril. 

"They'll  starve  us  out  in  shortest  measure  at  this 
rate,"  he  prophesied.  "They  have  trampled  down 
all  the  standing  corn  for  miles  around,  and  this 
morning  they  burned  the  mill.  'Tis  our  notice  to 
quit,  and  we'd  best  take  it.  There  has  been  fight- 
ing to  the  south  of  us — a  plenty  of  it — at  Rocky 
Mount  and  Hanging  Rock,  and  elsewhere,  and 


186       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

every  man  is  needed.  If  you  are  strong  enough  to 
stand  the  march,  we'll  run  the  gantlet  down  the 
river  in  the  pirogue  and  cut  across  from  the  lower 
ford  to  join  Major  Davie  or  Mr.  Gates." 

I  said  I  was  fit  enough,  and  would  do  whatever 
he  thought  best.  And  then  I  took  a  step  upon  the 
forbidden  ground. 

"Falconnet  is  still  at  Appleby  Hundred?"  I  said. 

He  nodded. 

"And  you  will  join  the  army  at  the  front  and 
leave  Margery  to  his  tender  mercies?" 

His  laugh  was  bitter ;  so  bitter  that  I  scarce  knew 
it  for  Richard  Jennifer's. 

"Mistress  Margery  Stair  is  well,  and  well  con- 
tent, as  I  told  you  once  before.  She  has  no  wish 
for  you  or  me,  unless  it  be  to  see  us  well  hanged." 

"Nay,  Richard;  you  judge  her  over-harshly.  I 
fear  you  do  not  love  her  as  her  lover  should." 

"Say  you  so?  Listen:  to-night  I  got  as  far  as 
the  manor  house,  being  fool  enough  to  risk  my 
neck  for  another  sight  of  her.  God  help  me,  Jack ! 
I  had  it.  They  have  scraped  together  all  the  Tory 
riff-raff  this  side  of  the  river — Falconnet  and  the 
others — and  are  holding  high  revel  at  Appleby. 
Since  it  is  still  our  true-blue  borderland,  they  are 
scant  enough  of  women  of  their  own  kidney,  and  I 
saw  Madge  dancing  like  any  light  o'  love  with  every 
jackanapes  that  offered." 

"In  her  father's  house  she  could  not  well  do  less," 
I  averred,  cut  to  the  heart,  as  he  was,  and  yet  with- 


LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP    187 

out  his  younger  lover's  jealousy  to  make  me  un- 
just. 

"Or  more,"  he  added,  savagely.  "  'Tis  as  I  say ; 
she  lacks  nothing  we  can  give  her,  and  we'd  as 
well  be  off  about  our  business." 

I  think  he  never  had  it  in  his  heart  to  leave  her 
in  any  threat  of  danger.  But  from  his  point  of 
view  there  was  no  danger  threatening  her  save  that 
which  she  seemed  willing  enough  to  rush  upon — 
a  life  of  titled  misery  as  Lady  Falconnet.  I  saw 
how  he  would  see  it ;  saw,  too,  that  his  was  the  saner 
summing  of  it  up.  And  yet — 

He  broke  into  my  musings  with  a  pointed  ques- 
tion. "What  say  you,  Jack  ?  'Tis  but  a  little  whif- 
fet of  a  Tory  jade  who  cares  not  the  snap  of  her  fin- 
ger for  either  of  us.  The  night  is  fine  and  dark. 
Shall  we  float  the  canoe  and  give  them  all  the  slip  ?" 

This  was  how  it  came  to  turn  upon  a  "yes"  or 
"no"  of  mine.  I  hesitated,  I  know  not  why.  In 
the  little  pause  the  fire  burned  low  between  us,  and 
the  shadows  deepened  in  the  burrow  cavern  until 
they  strangled  the  eye  as  mephitic  vapors  scant  a 
man  of  breath.  The  silence,  too,  was  stifling. 
There  was  no  sound  to  breach  it  save  the  gurgling 
murmur  of  the  river,  and  this  was  subdued  and  in- 
termittent like  the  death-rattle  in  the  throat  of  the 
dying. 

I've  always  made  a  scoff  of  superstition,  and  yet, 
my  dears,  a  thousand  questions  in  this  life  of  ours 
must  hang  answerless  to  the  crack  of  doom  if  you 


188       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

deny  it  standing-room.  I  knew  no  more  than  I  have 
set  down  here  of  Margery's  besetment;  nay,  I  had 
every  reason  Richard  Jennifer  had  to  believe  that 
she  was  well  and  well  content,  lacking  nothing,  save, 
mayhap,  the  freedom  to  marry  where  she  chose. 

And  yet,  out  of  the  stifling  silence  there  came  a 
sudden  cry  for  help ;  a  cry  voiceless  to  the  outward 
ear,  but  sharp  and  piercing  to  that  finer  inward 
sense;  a  cry  so  real  that  I  would  start  and  listen, 
marveling  that  Jennifer  made  no  sign  of  having 
heard  it. 

In  the  barkening  instant  there  was  a  faint  twang 
like  the  thrumming  of  a  distant  harp  string,  and 
then  the  grave-like  silence  was  rent  smartly  by  the 
whistling  hiss  of  an  arrow,  the  shaft  passing  evenly 
between  us  and  scattering  the  handful  of  fire  where 
it  struck. 

Jennifer  came  alive  with  a  start,  leaping  up  with 
a  malediction  between  his  teeth  upon  our  dallying. 

"Too  late,  by  God!"  he  cried.  "They've  trapped 
us  like  a  pair  of  blind  moles!"  And  with  that  he 
caught  up  the  ancient  broadsword,  only  to  swear 
again  when  he  found  no  room  to  swing  it  in. 

Having  the  handier  weapon,  I  slipped  out  before 
him,  creeping  on  hands  and  knees  till  I  could  see 
the  leafy  screen  at  the  den's  mouth,  and  the  shim- 
mering reflection  of  the  stars  upon  the  water  be- 
yond it.  There  was  no  sight  nor  sound  of  any 
enemy,  and  the  canoe  lay  safe  as  Jennifer  had 
left  it. 

To  make  assurance  sure,  I  would  have  scrambled 


LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP    189 

to  the  bank  above;  but  at  the  moment  Jennifer 
hallooed  softly  to  me,  and  so  I  crept  back  into  the 
burrow. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  excitedly.  "What  a  devil 
will  you  make  of  this  ?" 

He  had  drawn  the  scattered  embers  together,  fan- 
ning them  ablaze  again,  and  had  sought  and  found 
the  arrow.  It  was  a  blunt-head  reed  and  no  war 
shaft.  And  around  the  middle  of  it,  tightly 
wrapped  and  tied  with  silken  threads,  was  a  little 
scroll  of  parchment. 

'  'Tis  the  Catawba's  arrow,"  said  Jennifer,  though 
how  he  knew  I  could  not  guess ;  and  then  he  cut 
the  threads  to  free  the  scroll. 

Unrolled  and  spread  at  large,  the  parchment 
proved  to  be  that  map  of  Captain  Stuart's  that  I 
had  found  and  lost  again.  And  on  the  margin  of 
it  was  my  note  to  Jennifer,  written  in  that  trying 
moment  when  the  bribed  sentry  waited  at  the  door 
and  my  sweet  lady  stood  trembling  beside  me,  mur- 
muring her  "Holy  Marys." 

"Read  it,"  said  I.  "It  explains  itself.  Tarleton 
had  laid  me  by  the  heels  to  wait  for  the  hangman, 
and  I  would  have  passed  the  word  about  the  Indian- 
arming  on  to  you.  But  my  messenger  was  over- 
hauled, and — " 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  broke  in ;  "I've  spelled  it  out. 
But  this  line  added  at  the  bottom — surely,  that  is 
never  your  crabbed  fist.  By  heaven !  'tis  in  Madge's 
hand!" 

He  knelt  to  hold  it  closer  to  the  flickering  fire- 


THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY, 


light,  and  we  deciphered  it  together.  It  was  but 
a  line,  as  he  had  said,  with  neither  greeting  nor 
leave-taking,  address  nor  signature. 

"If  this  should  come  into  the  hands  of  any  true- 
hearted  gentleman"  —  here  was  a  blot  as  if  the  pen 
had  slipped  from  the  fingers  holding  it  ;  and  then, 
in  French,  the  very  wording  of  the  inarticulate  cry 
that  had  come  to  me  out  of  the  darkness  and 
silence  :  "A  moil  pour  I'  amour  de  Dieu!" 

We  fell  apart,  each  to  his  own  side  of  the  handful 
of  embers. 

"You  make  it  out?"  said  I,  after  a  moment  of 
strained  silence. 

He  nodded.  "She  has  prattled  the  parlez-vous 
to  me  ever  since  we  were  boy  and  maid  together." 

A  full  minute  more  of  the  threatening  silence, 
and  at  the  end  of  it  we  were  glaring  at  each  other 
like  two  wild  creatures  crouching  for  the  spring. 

It  was  Jennifer  who  spoke  first.  "  'Twas  meant 
for  me,"  he  said  ;  and  his  voice  had  the  warning  of 
a  mastiff's  growl  in  it. 

"No!"  said  I,  curtly. 

"I  say  it  was  !" 

"Then  you  say  the  thing  which  is  not." 

Had  I  been  Richard  Jennifer,  I  know  not  what 
bitter  reproach  I  should  have  found  to  hurl  at  the 
man  who  had  thrice  owed  his  life  to  me.  But  he 
said  no  word  of  what  had  gone  before. 

"You  may  give  me  the  lie,  if  you  like,  John  Ire- 
ton;  I  shall  not  strike  you."  He  said  it  slowly, 
but  his  face  was  gray  with  anger.  Then  he  added, 


LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP.    191 

hotly:  "You  know  well  that  word  was  meant  for 
me!" 

At  this — God  forgive  me ! — my  jealous  wratli 
broke  bounds  and  I  cursed  him  for  a  beardless 
coxcomb  who  must  needs  think  he  stood  alone  in 
tHe  eye  of  every  woman  he  should  meet.  "She 
needs  a  man !"  I  raged,  lost  now  to  every  sense  of 
decent  justice,  "  a  man,  I  say !  And  to  whom  would 
she  send  if  not  to  her — " 

I  choked  upon  the  word.  He  had  risen  with  me, 
and  we  stood  face  to  face  in  that  grim  earth-womb, 
snarling  fiercely  at  each  other  across  the  narrow 
firelit  space ;  two  men  with  every  tie  to  knit  us  close 
together,  and  yet — God  save  us  all ! — a  pair  of  wild 
beasts  strung  up  to  the  killing  pitch  because,  for- 
sooth, we  must  needs  front  each  other  across  a  dead- 
line drawn  by  the  finger  of  a  woman ! 

God  knows  what  would  have  come  of  all  this  had 
my  dear  lad  been  as  fierce  a  fool  as  I.  'Twas  his 
good  common  sense  that  saved  us  both,  I  think, 
for  when  the  savage  rival  madness  was  at  its  height 
he  turned  away,  swearing  we  were  the  very  pick  and 
choice  of  a  world  of  asses  to  stand  thus  feeling  for 
each  other's  throats  when,  mayhap,  the  lady  needed 
both  of  us. 

This  brought  me  to  my  senses  at  a  gallop,  as 
you  would  guess ;  to  them  and  to  the  lighting  of 
the  conscience  fire  within  whereon  to  grill  the 
wicked  heart  that  but  now  had  thirsted  for  a 
brother's  blood. 

"Now  God  have  mercy  on  us  both!"  I  groaned. 


192        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"Forgive  me,  Dick,  if  you  can ;  I  was  as  mad  as  any 
Bedlamite.  If  I  have  any  claim  on  her,  'tis  not  of 
her  good  will,  you  may  be  sure.  You  have  the 
baronet  to  fear — not  me." 

He  shook  his  head  and  pointed  to  the  parchment 
— to  the  line  in  French. 

"Francis  Falconnet  was  under  the  same  roof  with 
her — or  at  least  in  easy  call — -when  she  wrote  that, 
Jack.  He  is  no  longer  my  rival — nor  yours." 

His  word  set  me  thinking,  and  I  would  fall  to 
picking  out  the  strands  that  jealous  wrath  had 
woven  for  me  into  the  web  of  happenings.  Setting 
aside  the  story  brought  by  Ephraim  Yeates,  there 
was  no  certain  proof  that  she  had  ever  favored  the 
Englishman ;  nay,  more,  till  I  had  come  to  be  madly 
jealous  of  Falconnet,  I  had  made  sure  that  Jennifer 
was  the  favored  one. 

At  this,  as  one  sees  a  landscape  struck  out  clear 
and  vivid  by  the  lightning's  flash,  I  saw  the  true 
meaning  of  the  word  the  hunter  had  brought — saw 
it  and  went  upon  my  knees  to  grope  blindly  for  the 
sword  I  had  let  fall  when  Dick  had  found  the 
arrow. 

"What  is  it,  Jack  ?"  he  asked,  gently. 

"My  sword !"  I  gasped.  "We  should  have  been 
half-way  there  by  this.  Yeates  was  misled.  'Tis 
Falconnet  she  fears.  She  was  at  bay — hark  you, 
at  bay  and  fair  desperate.  That  word  of  hers  to 
the  baronet  was  her  poor  pitiful  defiance  built  on 
her  trust  in  us,  and  we  have  lain  here — " 


LOVE  TOOK  TOLL  OF  FRIENDSHIP    193 

He  found  the  sword  and  thrust  it  into  my  hand, 
crying : 

"Come  on !  You  can  strew  the  dust  and  ashes  on 
me  later.  You  said  you  loved  her  the  better,  and 
I  do  believe  it  now,  Jack!  You  trusted  her,  as  I 
did  not.  We'll  fight  as  one  man  to  cut  her  out  of 
this  coil,  whatever  it  may  be ;  and  after  that  is  done 
I'll  make  my  bow  and  leave  you  a  fair  field." 

"Nay,  nay;  that  you  shall  not,  Dick,"  I  began; 
but  he  was  half-way  through  the  narrow  passage 
to  the  open,  trailing  the  ancient  broadsword  and  the 
bearskin  from  his  bed;  and  I  was  fain  to  follow 
quickly,  leaving  the  protest  all  unfinished. 


XVIII 

IN  WHICH   WE   HEAR   NEWS  FROM   THE  SOUTH 

As  near  as  might  be  guessed,  it  wanted  yet  an 
hour  or  two  of  daybreak  when  we  made  a  landing 
within  the  boundaries  of  Appleby  Hundred,  and 
beached  and  hid  the  pirogue  in  the  bushes. 

Of  the  down-stream  flitting  through  the  small 
hours  of  the  warm  midsummer  night  there  is  no 
sharp-etched  picture  on  the  memory  page.  As  I 
recall  it,  no  spoken  word  of  Jennifer's  or  mine  came 
in  to  break  the  rhythm  of  the  hasting  voyage.  Our 
paddles  rose  and  fell,  dipping  and  sweeping  in  uni- 
son as  if  we  two,  kneeling  in  bow  and  stern,  were 
separate  halves  of  some  relentless  mechanism  driven 
by  a  single  impulse.  Overhead  the  starlit  dome  cir- 
cled solemnly  to  the  right  or  left  to  match  the  wind- 
ings of  the  stream.  On  each  hand  the  tree-fringed 
shores  sped  backward  in  the  gloom;  and  beneath 
the  light  shell  of  poplar  wood  that  barely  kissed  the 
ripples  in  passing,  the  river  lapped  and  gurgled, 
chuckling  weirdly  at  the  paddle  plungings,  and 
swirling  aft  in  the  longer  reaches  to  point  at 
us  down  the  lengthening  wake  with  a  wavering 
finger  silver-tipped  in  the  wan  starlight. 
194 


WE  HEAR  NEWS  FROM  THE  SOUTH    195 

With  the  canoe  safely 'hidden  at  the  landing  place, 
which  was  some  little  distance  from  that  oak  grove 
where  I  had  twice  kept  tryst  with  death,  we  set 
out  for  the  manor  house,  skulking  Indian  fashion 
through  the  wood;  and,  when  we  reached  the  in- 
fields, looking  momently  to  come  upon  a  sentry. 

Thinking  the  approaches  from  the  road  and  river 
would  be  better  guarded  than  that  from  the  wood, 
we  skirted  a  widespread  thicket  tangle,  spared  by 
my  father  twenty  years  before  to  be  a  grouse  and 
pheasant  cover,  and  fetching  a  compass  of  half  a 
mile  or  more  across  the  maize  fields,  came  in  among 
the  oaks  and  hickories  of  the  manor  grounds. 

Still  there  was  no  sight  nor  sound  of  any  enemy ; 
no  light  of  candles  at  the  house,  or  of  camp-fires 
beneath  the  trees. 

A  little  way  within  the  grove,  where  the  inter- 
lacing tree-tops  made  the  darkness  like  Egyptian 
night,  Jennifer  went  on  all  fours  to  feel  around  as 
if  in  search  of  something  on  the  sward.  Whereat 
I  called  softly  to  know  what  he  would  be  at. 

He  rose,  muttering,  half  as  to  himself :  "I  thought 
I'd  never  be  so  far  out  of  reckoning."  Then  to  me : 
"A  few  hours  since,  the  Cherokees  were  encamped 
just  here.  You  are  standing  in  the  ashes  of  their 
fire." 

"So  ?"  said  I.    "Then  they  have  gone  ?" 

"Gone  from  this  safely  enough,  to  be  sure.  They 
have  been  gone  some  hours;  the  cinders  are  cold 
and  dew  wet." 


196       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"So  much  the  better,"  I  would  say,  thinking  only 
that  now  there  would  be  the  fewer  enemies  to  fight. 

He  dipt  my  arm  suddenly,  putting  the  value  of 
an  oath  into  his  gripping  of  it. 

"Come  awake,  man ;  this  is  no  time  to  be  a-daze !" 
His  whisper  was  a  sharp  behest,  with  a  shake  of 
the  gripped  arm  for  emphasis.  "If  the  Indians  are 
gone,  it  means  that  the  powder  train  has  come  and 
gone,  too." 

"Well?"  said  I. 

I  was  still  thinking,  with  less  than  a  clod's  wit, 
that  this  would  send  the  baronet  captain  about  his 
master's  business,  and  so  Margery  would  have 
surcease  of  him  for  a  time,  at  least.  But  Jennifer 
fetched  me  awake  with  another  whip-lash  word  or 
two. 

"Jack!  has  the  night's  work  gone  to  your  head? 
If  Falconnet  has  got  his  marching  orders  you  may 
be  sure  he's  tried  by  hook  or  crook  to  play  'safe 
bind,  safe  find/  with  Madge.  By  heaven!  'twas 
that  she  was  afeard  of,  and  we  are  here  too  late! 
Come  on !" 

I  With  that  he  faced  about  and  ran;  and  forget- 
ting to  loose  his  grip  on  my  arm,  took  me  with 
him  till  I  broke  away  to  have  my  sword  hand  free. 
So  running,  we  came  presently  to  the  open  space 
before  the  house,  and,  truly,  it  was  well  for  us  that 
the  place  was  clean  deserted;  for  by  this  we  had 
both  forgot  the  very  name  of  prudence. 

Jennifer  outran  me  tQ  the  door  by  half  a  length", 


WE  HEAR  NEWS  FROM  THE  SOUTH    197 

and  fell  to  hammering  fiercely  on  the  panel  with 
the  pommel  of  his  broadsword. 

"Open!  Mr.  Stair;  open!"  he  shouted,  between 
the  batterings;  but  it  was  five  full  minutes  before 
the  fan-light  overhead  began  to  show  some  faint 
glimmerings  of  a  candle  coming  from  the  rooms  be- 
yond. 

Richard  rested  at  that,  and  in  the  pause  a  thin 
voice  shrilled  from  within. 

"Be  off,  you  runagates!  Off,  I  say!  or  I  fire 
upon  ye  through  the  door !" 

Giving  no  heed  to  the  threat,  Dick  set  up  his 
clamor  again,  calling  out  his  name,  and  bidding 
the  old  man  open  to  a  friend.  In  some  notching 
of  the  hubbub  I  heard  the  unmistakable  click  of  a 
gun-flint  on  steel.  There  was  barely  time  to  trip 
my  reckless  batterer  and  to  fall  flat  with  him 
on  the  door-stone  when  a  gun  went  off  within,  and 
a  handful  of  slugs,  breaching  the  oaken  panel  at 
the  height  of  a  man's  middle,  went  screeching 
over  us. 

Before  I  knew  what  he  would  be  at,  Richard  was 
up  with  an  oath,  backing  off  to  hurl  himself,  shoul- 
der on,  against  the  door.  It  gave  with  a  splintering 
crash,  letting  him  in  headlong.  I  followed  less  hast- 
ily. It  was  as  black  as  a  setter's  mouth  within, 
the  gun  fire  having  snuffed  the  old  man's  candle 
out.  But  we  had  flint  and  steel  and  tinder-box, 
and  when  the  punk  was  alight,  Jennifer  found  the 
candle  under  foot  and  gave  it  me.  It  took  fire 


198        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

with  a  fizzing  like  a  rocket  fuse,  and  was  well 
blackened  with  gunpowder.  When  the  flint  had 
failed  to  bring  the  firing  spark,  the  old  man  had 
set  his  piece  off  with  the  candle  flame. 

We  found  him  in  the  nook  made  by  the  turn 
of  the  stair,  flung  thither,  as  it  seemed,  by  the  recoil 
of  the  great  bell-mouthed  blunderbuss  which  he  was 
still  clutching.  The  fall  had  partly  stunned  him, 
but  he  was  alive  enough  to  protest  feebly  that  he 
would  take  a  dozen  oaths  upon  his  loyalty  to  the 
cause;  that  he  had  mistook  us  for  some  thieving 
marauders  of  the  other  side ;  craftily  leaving  cause 
and  party  without  a  name  till  he  should  have  his 
cue  from  us. 

Whereupon  Richard  loosed  his  neckcloth  to  give 
him  better  breathing  space,  and  bidding  me  see  if 
the  revelers  had  left  a  heel-tap  of  wine  in  any  bottle 
nearer  than  the  wine  cellar,  lifted  the  old  man  and 
propped  him  in  the  corner  of  the  high-backed  hall 
settle. 

The  wine  quest  led  me  to  the  banqueting-room. 
Here  disorder  reigned  supreme.  The  table  stood 
as  the  roisterers  had  left  it;  the  very  wreck  and 
litter  of  a  bacchanalian  feast.  Bottles,  some  with 
the  necks  struck  off,  were  scattered  all  about,  and 
the  floor  was  stained  and  sticky  with  spilt  wine 
and  well  sanded  with  shattered  glass. 

I  found  a  remnant  draining  in  one  of  the  broken 
bottles,  and  a  cup  to  pour  it  in ;  and  with  this  salvage 
from  the  wreck  returned  to  Jennifer  and  his  charge. 
The  old  man  had  come  to  some  better  sensing  of 


WE  HEAR  NEWS  FROM  THE  SOUTH    199 

things, — he  had  been  vastly  more  frightened  than 
hurt,  as  I  suspected, — and  to  Richard's  eager  ques- 
tionings was  able  to  give  some  feebly  querulous  re- 
plies. 

"Yes,  they're  gone — all  gone,  curse  'em;  and 
they've  taken  every  plack  and  bawbee  they  could 
lay  their  thieving  hands  upon,"  he  mumbled.  "  'Tis 
like  the  dogs ;  to  stay  on  here  and  eat  and  drink  me 
out  of  house  and  home,  and  then  to  scurry  off  when 
I'm  most  like  to  need  protection." 

"But  Madge?"  says  Richard.  "Is  she  safe  in 
bed?" 

"She's  a  jade !"  was  all  the  answer  he  got.  Then 
the  old  man  sat  up  and  peered  around  the  end  of 
the  settle  to  where  I  stood,  cup  and  bottle  in  hand. 
"  'Tis  a  Christian  thought,"  he  quavered.  "Give 
me  a  sup  of  the  wine,  man." 

I  served  him  and  had  a  Scottish  blessing  for  my 
wastefulness,  because,  forsooth,  the  broken  bottle 
spilt  a  thimbleful  in  the  pouring.  I  saw  he  did  not 
recognize  me,  and  was  well  enough  content  to  let 
it  rest  thus. 

Richard  suffered  him  to  drink  in  peace,  but  when 
the  cup  was  empty  he  renewed  his  asking  for  Mar- 
gery. At  this  the  master  of  the  house,  heartened 
somewhat  by  my  father's  good  madeira,  made  shift 
to  get  upon  his  feet  in  some  tremulous  fashion. 

"Madge,  d'ye  say?  She's  gone;  gone  where 
neither  you  nor  that  dour-faced  deevil  that  befooled 
us  all  will  find  her  soon,  I  promise  you,  Dickie 
Jennifer!"  he  snapped;  and  I  gave  them  my  back 


200       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

and  stumbled  blindly  to  the  door,  making  sure  his 
next  word  would  tell  my  poor  wronged  lad  all  that 
he  should  have  learned  from  never  any  other  lips 
but  mine  own.  But  Richard  himself  parried  the 
impending  stroke  of  truth,  saying : 

"So  she  is  safe  and  well,  Mr.  Stair,  'tis  all  I  ask 
to  know." 

"She  is  safe  enough;  safer  by  far  than  you  are 
at  this  minute,  my  young  cock-a-hoop  rebel,  now 
that  the  king — God  save  him ! — has  his  own  again." 

I  turned  quickly  on  the  broad  door-stone  to  look 
within.  Out  of  doors  the  early  August  dawn  was 
graying  mistily  overhead,  but  in  the  house  the 
sputtering  tallow  dip  still  struggled  feebly  with 
the  gloom.  They  stood  facing  each  other,  these 
two,  my  handsome  lad,  the  pick  and  choice  of  a 
comely  race,  looking,  for  all  his  toils  and  vigils, 
fresh  and  fit ;  and  the  old  man  in  his  woolen  dress- 
ing-gown, his  wig  awry,  and  his  lean  face  yellow 
in  the  candle-light. 

"How  is  that  you  say,  Mr.  Stair?"  says  Dick. 
"The  king — but  that  is  only  the  old  Tory  cry. 
There  will  never  be  a  king  again  this  side  of  the 
water." 

The  old  man  reached  out  and  hooked  a  lean 
finger  in  the  lad's  buttonhole.  "Say  you  so,  Richard 
Jennifer?  Then  you  will  never  have  heard  the 
glorious  news?"  This  with  a  leer  that  might  have 
been  of  triumph'  or  the  mere  whetting  of  gossip 
eagerness — I  could  not  tell. 


"No,"  says  Richard,  with  much  indifference. 

"Hear  it,  then.  'Twas  at  Camden,  four  days 
since.  They  came  together  in  the  murk  of  the 
Wednesday  morning,  my  Lord  Cornwallis  and  that 
poor  fool  Gates.  De  Kalb  is  dead;  your  blethering 
Irishman,  Rutherford,  is  captured;  and  your  rag- 
tag rebel  army  is  scattered  to  the  four  winds.  And 
that's  not  all.  On  the  Friday,  Colonel  Tarleton 
came  up  with  Sumter  at  Fishing  Creek  and  caught 
him  napping.  Whereupon,  Charlie  McDowell  and 
the  over-mountain  men,  seeing  all  was  lost,  broke 
their  camp  on  the  Broad  and  took  to  their  heels, 
every  man  jack  of  them  for  himself.  So  ye  see, 
Dickie  Jennifer,  there's  never  a  cursed  corporal's 
guard  left  in  either  Carolina  to  stand  in  the  king's 
way." 

He  rattled  all  this  off  glibly,  like  a  child  repeating 
some  lesson  got  by  heart ;  but  when  I  would  have 
found  a  grain  of  comfort  in  the  hope  that  it  was  a 
.farrago  of  Falconnet's  lies,  Jennifer  made  the  truth 
appear  in  answer  to  a  curt  question. 

"  Tis  beyond  doubt?— all  this,  Mr.  Stair?" 

The  old  loyalist — loyalist  now,  if  never  certainly 
before — sat  down  on  the  settle  and  laughed;  a  dry 
wizened  cackle  of  a  laugh  that  sounded  like  the 
crumpling  of  new  parchment. 

"You'd  best  be  off,  light  foot  and  tight  foot, 
Master  Richard,  lest  you  learn  shrewdly  for  your- 
self. 'Tis  in  everybody's  mouth  by  this.  There 
were  some  five-and-forty  of  the  king's  friends  come 


'202       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

together  here  no  longer  ago  than  yestere'en  to  drink 
his  Majesty's  health,  and  £h,  man!  but  it  will  cost 
me  a  pretty  penny !  Will  that  satisfy  ye  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Jennifer,  thinking,  mayhap,  as  I  did, 
that  nothing  short  of  gospel-true  news  would  have 
sufficed  to  unlock  this  poor  old  miser's  wine  cellar. 

"Well,  then;  you'd  best  be  off  while  you  may; 
d'ye  hear  ?  I  bear  ye  no  ill-will,  Richard  Jennifer ; 
and  if  Mr.  Tarleton  lays  hold  of  you,  you'll  hang 
higher  than  Haman  for  evading  your  parole,  I 
promise  you.  We'll  say  naught  about  this  rape 
of  the  door-lock,  though  'tis  actionable,  sir,  and 
I'll  warn  you  the  law  would  make  you  smart  finely 
for  it.  But  we'll  enter  a  nolle  prosequi  on  that  till 
you're  amnestied  and  back,  then  you  can  pay  me  the 
damage  of  t  broken  lock  and  we'll  cry  quits." 

At  this  my  straightforward  Richard  snorted  in 
wrathful  derision.  However  much  he  loved  the 
daughter,  'twas  clear  he  had  small  regard  for  the 
father. 

"Seeing  we  came  to  do  you  a  service,  Mr.  Stair, 
I  think  we  may  set  the  blunderbuss  and  the  handful 
of  slugs  over  against  the  smashed  door.  And  that 
fetches  me  back  to  our  errand  here.  You  say  Madge 
is  safe.  Does  that  mean  that  you  have  spirited  her 

away  since  last  night?" 

"Dinna  fash  yoursel'  about  Madge,  Richard  Jen- 
nifer. She's  meat  for  your  betters,  sir !"  rasped  the 
old  man,  lapsing  into  the  mother  tongue,  as  he  did 
now  and  then  in  fear  or  anger. 

"Still  I  would  know  what  you  mean  when  you 


WE  HEAR  NEWS  FROM  THE  SOUTH    203 

say  she  is  safe,"  says  Richard,  whose  determination 
to  crack  a  nut  was  always  proportioned  to  the  hard- 
ness of  the  shell. 

Gilbert  Stair  cursed  him  roundly  for  an  imperti- 
nent jackanapes,  and  then  gave  him  his  answer. 

'  'Tis  none  of  your  business,  Dickie  Jennifer,  but 
you  may  know  and  be  hanged  to  you!  She  rode 
home  with  the  Witherbys  last  night  after  the  rout, 
and  will  be  by  this  safe  away  in  t'other  Carolina 
where  your  cursed  Whiggeries  darena  lift  head  or 
hand." 

"Of  her  own  free  will  ?"  Dick  persisted. 

"Damme !  yes ;  bag,  baggage,  serving  wench  and 
all.  Now  will  you  be  off  about  your  business  before 
some  spying  rascal  lays  an  information  against  me 
for  harboring  you  ?''  ^M. 

Richard  joined  me  on  the  door-stone.  The  dawn 
was  in  its  twilight  now,  and  the  great  trees  on  the 
lawn  were  taking  gray  and  ghostly  shapes  in  the 
dim  perspective. 

"You  heard  what  he  had  to  say  ?"  said  he. 

I  nodded. 

"It  seems  we  have  missed  our  cue  on  all  sides," 
he  went  on,  not  without  bitterness.  "I  would  we 
might  have  had  a  chance  to  fire  a  shot  or  two  before 
the  ship  went  down." 

"At  Camden,  you  mean?  That's  but  the  begin- 
ning; the  real  battles  are  all  to  be  fought  yet,  I 
should  say." 

He  shook  his  head  despondently.  "You  are  a 
newcomer,  Jack,  and  you  know  not  how  near  out- 


204       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

worn  the  country  is.  Gilbert  Stair  has  the  right 
of  it  when  he  says  there  will  be  nothing  to  stop  the 
redcoats  now." 

I  called  to  mind  the  resolute  little  handful  under 
Captain  Abram  Forney,  one  of  many  such,  he  had 
told  me,  and  would  not  yield  the  point. 

"There  will  be  plenty  of  fighting  yet,  and  we  must 
go  to  bear  a  hand  where  it  is  needed  most,"  said 
I.  "Where  will  that  be,  think  you?  At  Charlotte?" 

He  looked  at  me  reproachfully. 

"This  time  'tis  you  who  are  the  laggard  in  love, 
John  Ireton.  Will  you  go  and  leave  Mistress  Mar- 
gery wanting  an  answer  to  her  poor  little  cry  for 
help?" 

I  shrugged.  "What  would  you?  Has  she  not 
taken  her  affair  into  her  own  hands  ?" 

"God  knows  how  much  or  little  she  has  had  to 
say  about  it,"  said  he.  "But  I  mean  to  know,  too, 
before  I  put  my  name  on  any  company  roll."  We 
were  among  the  trees  by  this,  moving  off  for  safety's 
sake,  since  the  day  was  coming;  and  he  broke  off 
short  to  wheel  and  face  me  as  one  who  would 
throttle  a  growling  cur  before  it  has  a  chance  to- 
bite.  "We  know  the  worst  of  each  other  now,  Jack, 
and  we  must  stand  to  our  compact.  Let  us  see  her 
safe  beyond  peradventure  of  a  doubt ;  then  I'm  with 
you  to  fight  the  redcoats  single-handed,  if  you  like. 
I  know  what  you  will  say — that  the  country  calls 
us  now  more  than  ever;  but  there  must  needs  be 
some  little  rallying  interval  after  all  this  disaster, 
and—" 


WE  HEAR  NEWS  FROM  THE  SOUTH    205 

"Have  done,  Richard,"  said  I.  "Set  the  pace 
and  mayhap  I  can  keep  step  with  you.  What  do 
you  propose?" 

"This;  that  we  go  to  Witherby  Hall  and  get 
speech  with  Mistress  Madge,  if  so  be — " 

"Stay  a  moment ;  who  are  these  Witherbys  ?" 

"A  dyed-in-the-wool  Tory  family  seated  some  ten 
miles  across  the  line  in  York  district.  True,  'tis  a 
rank  Tory  hotbed  over  there,  and  we  shall  run  some 
risk." 

"Never  name  risk  to  me  if  you  love  me,  Richard 
Jennifer !"  I  broke  in.  "What  is  your  plan  ?" 

His  answer  was  prompt  and  to  the  point. 
"To  press  on  afoot  through  the  forest  till  we  come 
to  the  York  settlement;  then  to  borrow  a  pair  of 
Tory  horses  and  ride  like  gentlemen.  Are  you 
game  for  it  ?" 

I  hesitated.  "I  see  no  great  risk  in  all  this,  and 
whatever  the  hazard,  'tis  less  for  one  than  for  two. 
You'd  best  go  alone,  Richard." 

He  saw  my  meaning ;  that  I  would  stand  aside  and 
let  him  be  her  succor  if  she  needed  help.  But  he 
would  not  have  it  so. 

"No,"  he  said,  doggedly.  "We'll  go  together, 
and  she  shall  choose  between  us  for  a  champion,  if 
she  is  in  the  humor  to  honor  either  of  us.  That 
is  what  'twill  come  to  in  the  end ;  and  I  warn  you 
fairly,  John  IretonJ  shall  neither  give  nor  take  ad- 
vantage in  this  strife.  I  said  last  night  that  I  would 
stand  aside,  but  that  I  can  not — not  till  she  herself 
says  the  killing  word  with  her  own  lips." 


206       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"And  that  word  will  be—?" 

"That  she  loves  another  man.  Come;  let  us  be 
at  it;  we  should  be  well  out  of  this  before  the 
plantation  people  are  astir." 


XIX 

HOW  A  STUMBLING  HORSE  BROUGHT  TIDINGS 

Having  a  definite  thing1  to  do,  we  set  about  it 
forthwith,  taking  to  the  fields  and  making  a  wide 
circuit  around  the  manor  house  and  the  quarters 
where  the  blacks  were  already  stirring,  to  come  out 
to  the  river  and  so  to  cross  in  our  canoe. 

The  morning,  soft  and  warm  enough,  threatened 
now  to  break  the  fair  weather  promise  of  the  star- 
lit night.  Away  in  the  east  a  heavy  cloud  bank 
curtained  off  the  sunrise,  and  in  the  fields  the  few 
dry  maize  blades  left  by  the  partizan  harriers  were 
whispering  to  the  gusts. 

In  the  great  forest  all  was  yet  dim  and  sh'adowy, 
and  silent  as  the  grave  but  for  the  whispering  mur- 
mur of  the  rising  wind  in  the  higher  tree-tops;  a 
sound  so  like  the  babbling  of  brooks  as  most  cun- 
ningly to  deceive  the  'ear  and  make  it  set  the  eye  at 
work  to  look  for  water  where  there  was  none. 

Not  to  take  a  certain  hazard  for  the  sake  of  bet- 
ter speed,  we  shunned  the  road,  and  for  the  first 
hour  or  so  were  not  greatly  hindered  by  keeping  to 
the  forest  paths.  In  vast  areas  this  virgin  wood 
207 


208       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

was  free  of  undergrowth,  open  and  park-like  as  a 
well-kept  grove.  Fireside  tradition  on  the  border 
tells  how  the  Indians  kept  the  forest  clear  by  yearly 
burnings  of  the  smaller  growth ;  this  for  the  better 
hunting  of  the  deer.  I  vouch,  not  for  the  truth  of 
this  accounting  for  the  fact,  but  for  the  fact  itself. 
For  endless  miles  between  the  watercourses  these 
park-like  stretches  covered  hill  and  dale;  a  vast 
mysterious  temple  of  God's  own  building,  its  naves 
and  choirs  and  transepts  columned  by  the  countless 
trees,  with  all  their  leafy  crowns  to  interlace 
and  form  the  groined  arches  overhead. 

Through  these  pillared  aisles  we  tramped  abreast, 
shunning  the  road,  as  I  have  said,  yet  holding  it 
parallel  with  our  course  where  its  direction  served. 
In  the  open  vistas  we  had  frequent  glimpses  of  it, 
winding,  at  feud  with  all  the  points  of  the  compass, 
among  the  trees.  But  farther  on  we  came  into  the 
lower  land  of  a  creek  bottom,  and  here  a  thickset 
undergrowth  robbed  us  of  any  view  and  made  the 
march  a  toilsome  struggle  with  the  bushes. 

It  was  in  the  densest  of  this  underwood,  when 
we  could  hear  the  purring  of  the  stream  ahead,  that 
Jennifer  stopped  suddenly  and  began  to  sniff  the 
air. 

"Smoke,"  he  said,  briefly,  in  answer  to  my  query. 
"A  camp-fire,  with  meat  abroil.  Never  tell  me  you 
can't  smell  it." 

I  said  I  could  not — did  not,  at  all  events. 

"Then  you  are  not  as  sharp  set  for  breakfast  as 
I  am.  Call  up  your  woodcraft  and  we'll  stalk  it." 


A   HORSE    BROUGHT   TIDINGS      209 

And,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  dropped 
noiselessly  on  hands  and  knees  to  inch  his  way 
cautiously  out  of  the  thicket. 

I  followed  at  his  heels,  marveling  at  his  skill  in 
threading  the  maze  with  never  a  snapped  twig  to 
betray  him.  For  though  I  have  called  him  a  youth- 
ling,  he  came  of  great,  square-shouldered  English 
stock,  and  was  well  upon  fourteen  stone  for  weight. 
Yet  upon  occasion,  as  now,  he  could  be  as  lithe  and 
cat-like  as  an  Indian,  stealthy  in  approach  and  tiger- 
strong  to  spring. 

In  due  time  our  creeping  progress  brought  us  out 
of  the  thicket  on  the  brink  of  the  higher  creek 
bank.  Just  here  the  stream  ran  in  a  shallow  ravine 
with  shelving  banks  of  clay,  and  on  its  hither  mar- 
gin was  a  bit  of  grassy  intervale  big  enough  for  a 
horse  to  roll  upon.  Though  it  was  sadly  out  of 
season,  the  carcass  of  a  deer,  fresh  killed,  hung 
upon  a  branch  of  the  nearest  tree,  with  a  rifle  lean- 
ing against  the  trunk  as  if  to  guard  it.  In  the  middle 
of  the  bit  of  sward  a  tiny  camp-fire  burned ;  and  at 
the  fire,  squatting  with  their  backs  to  us  and  each 
toasting  a  cut  of  the  deer's  meat  on  a  forked  stick, 
were  two  men. 

One  of  these  men  would  pass  by  courtesy  as  a 
white.  His  hunting-shirt  and  leggings  were  of 
deer  skin,  well  grimed  and  greasy,  with  leather 
fringes  at  the  seams  of  leg  and  sleeve.  For  all  the 
summer  heat,  he  wore  a  cap  fashioned  of  raccoon- 
skin  with  the  fur  on ;  and  for  this  great  cap  his  iron- 
gray  hair,  matted  and  unkempt,  served  as  a  fringe 


210       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY. 

to  keep  the  other  tasselings  in  countenance.  The 
hunting-shirt  was  belted  at  the  waist,  and  in  the 
belt  was  thrust  a  sheathless  knife  huge  enough  to 
serve  a  butcher's  purpose.  From  two  leather 
thongs  crossed  upon  his  shoulders  hung  the  powder- 
horn  and  bullet-pouch ;  and  these,  with  the  knife 
and  rifle,  summed  up  his  accoutrements. 

The  other  was  a  red  man,  and  his  attire  was  sim- 
pler. Like  all  our  southern  Indians,  he  went  naked 
to  the  waist ;  but  the  savage's  love  of  ornament 
showed  forth  in  the  fringe  of  colored  porcupine 
quills  on  his  leggings  and  in  his  raven  hair  bestuck 
with  feathers.  For  arms  he  had  an  arsenal  in  his 
belt ;  two  great  pistols,  a  tomahawk,  and  the  scalp- 
ing-knife,  this  last  smaller  than  the  white  man's 
carving  tool,  but  far  more  vicious  looking. 

For  a  moment  or  two  we  crouched  irresolute  on 
the  brink  of  the  ravine,  neither  of  us  recognizing 
the  two  below.  Then  my  young  rashling  must 
needs  let  out  a  yell. 

"Now,  by  all  that's  lucky!"  he  cried,  and  would 
have  leaped  to  his  feet.  But  at  the  instant  the 
earth-edge  gave  way  under  him,  and  he  was  sent 
tumbling  with  the  small  landslide  of  clay  down 
upon  the  twain  at  the  fire. 

It  went  within  a  trembling  hair's-breadth  of  a 
tragedy.  The  two  at  the  fire  sprang  up  as  one  man ; 
and  the  bound  that  set  the  hunter  afoot  brought 
his  long  rifle  to  his  shoulder.  But  that  the  Indian 
was  the  quicker,  Richard's  life  would  have  paid  the 
penalty  of  his  slip,  I  think.  At  the  trigger-pulling 


A   HORSE   BROUGHT   TIDINGS     '211 

instant  the  Catawba  thrust  the  thick  of  his  hand 
between  stone  and  steel,  and  the  flint  bit,  harmless 
for  Jennifer,  into  the  palm  of  the  Indian. 

"Wah !"  he  ejaculated,  in  his  soft  guttural.  "No 
want  kill  Captain  Jennif,  hey?" 

Ephraim  Yeates  lowered  his  weapon  and  released 
the  pinched  hand  held  fast  by  the  gun-flint. 

"Well,  I'm  daddled,  fair  and  square,  Cap'n  Dick!" 
he  declared.  "Jest  one  more  shake  of  a  dead  lamb's 
tail,  and  I'd  'a'  had  ye  on  my  mind,  sartain  sure ! 
I  allowed  ye  knowed  better  than  to  come  whamm- 
ling  down  that-away  behint  a  man  whilst  he's 
a-cooking  his  ven'son." 

Dick  laughed  and  called  to  me  to  follow  as  I 
could.  And  his  answer  to  the  old  borderer  was  no 
answer  at  all. 

"  'Tis  to  be  hoped  you  and  the  chief  don't  mean 
to  be  niddering  with  that  deer's  meat.  We  were 
guessing  but  a  half-hour  back,  Captain  Ireton  and 
I,  whether  or  no  we'd  have  to  take  up  belt-slack 
for  our  breakfast." 

At  the  word  the  Catawba  whipped  out  his  knife 
and  fell  to  work  hospitably  on  the  meat  supply. 
Meanwhile  I  came  upon  the  scene,  something  less 
hurriedly  than  Richard.  Ephraim  Yeates  looked 
me  up  and  down  with  a  sniff  for  my  foreign-cut 
coat,  another  for  my  queue,  and  a  third  for  the  Ger- 
man ritter-boots  I  wore. 

"Umph !"  said  he.  "Now  if  here  ain't  that  there 
dad-blame'  Turkey-fighter  again !  What  almighty 
cur'is  things  the  good  Lord  do  let  loose  on  a  stiff- 


•212       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

necked  and  rebellious  gineration !"  Then  to  me, 
most  pointedly:  "Say,  Cap'n;  the  big  woods  ain't 
no  fitting  place  for  such  as  you,  ez  I  allow.  Ye 
mought  be  getting  them  purty  boots  o'  your'n  all 
tore  up  on  the  briars." 

He  ended  with  a  dry  little  laugh  not  unlike  Mr. 
Gilbert  Stair's  parchment  crackle;  and,  being  his 
guest  for  the  nonce,  I  laughed  with  him. 

"Have  your  joke  and  welcome,  Mr.  Yeates,"  said 
I.  "I  am  too  near  famished  to  quarrel  with  my 
chance  of  breakfast." 

Much  to  my  astoundment  he  flung  his  raccoon- 
skin  cap  into  the  air,  spat  upon  his  hands  and  began 
that  insane  war-dance  of  his. 

"Whoop !"  he  yelled.  "No  band-box  dandy  from 
the  settlemints  ever  sot  out  to  call  me  'Mister'  and 
got  away  alive  to  brag  on't!  Ketch  hold,  you  in- 
fergotten,  Turkey-fighting,  silver-buttoned  jack-a- 
dandy  till  I  dip  ye  in  the  creek  and  soak  a  flour- 
ration  'r  two  out  'n  that  there  pig-tail  top-knot  o' 
your'n!  Yip-pee!" 

By  this  Jennifer  was  trying,  as  well  as  a  man 
bent  double  with  laughter  might,  to  interpose  in  the 
interest  of  peace  and  amity ;  and  even  the  stoical 
Catawba  was  all  a-grin.  So,  seeing  I  was  like  to 
lose  countenance  with  all  of  them,  I  watched  my 
chance,  and  closing  with  my  capering  ancient,  gave 
him  a  hearty  wrestler's  hug. 

For  all  he  was  so  gaunt  and  thin,  and  full  twenty 
years  or  more  my  senior,  he  was  a  pretty  handful. 
Twas  much  like  trying  to  catch  a  fall  out  of  some 


A   HORSE    BROUGHT   TIDINGS      213 

piece  of  steel-wired  mechanism.  None  the  less,  after 
some  wild  stampings  and  strivings  in  which  the  old 
man  all  but  made  good  his  promise  to  put  me  in  the 
creek,  I  took  him  unawares  with  a  Cornishman's 
trick — a  cross-buttock  shifted  suddenly  to  a 
shoulder-lift — which  sent  him  flying  overhead  to 
land  all  abroad  in  the  soft  clay  of  the  landslide. 

The  effect  of  this  little  triumph  was  magical  and 
wholly  unlocked  for.  When  he  had  gathered 
himself  and  set  his  limbs  in  order,  Ephraim  Yeates 
sat  up  and  thrust  out  a  claw-like  hand. 

"Put  it  there,  stranger,"  he  said.  "I  reckon  ez 
how  that  settles  it.  Old  Eph  Yeates  '11  share  fair, 
powder  and  lead,  parched  corn  and  pan-meat  with 
the  man  that  can  flop  him  that-away.  Whilst  ye're 
a-needing  a  friend  in  the  big  woods — a  raw-meat- 
eating  Injun-skinner  that  can  jest  or'narily  whop 
his  weight  in  wildcats — why,  old  Eph's  your  man ; 
from  now  on,  if  not  sooner."  And  in  this  wise 
began  an  alliance  the  like  of  which,  for  true-blue 
loyalty  on  this  old  borderer's  part,  these  colder- 
hearted  times  of  yours,  my  dears,  will  never  see. 

As  you  would  guess,  I  gripped  the  hand  of  pledg- 
ing most  heartily,  pulling  the  old  man  to  his  feet 
and  protesting  it  was  but  a  trick  "he  would  never 
let  another  play  on  him.  And  then  we  four  fell 
upon  the  deer's  meat  which  was  by  this  time — not 
cooked,  to  be  sure,  but  seared  a  little  on  the  outside 
in  true  hunter  fashion. 

While  we  ate,  Richard  spoke  freely  of  our  intend- 
ings ;  and  in  return  Ephraim  Yeates  was  able  to  con- 


•214       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

firm  Mr.  Gilbert  Stair's  war  news  to  the  letter.  For 
all  his  Tory  bias  and  prejudice,  it  seemed  that 
Margery's  father  had  spoken  by  the  book.  Gates' 
army  was  crushed  and  scattered  to  the  four  winds ; 
Thomas  Sumter's  free-lances  had  been  at- 
tacked, worsted  and  driven,  with  the  leader 
himself  so  sorely  wounded  that  he  was  carried  from 
the  field  in  a  blanket  slung  between  the  horses  of 
two  of  his  men;  and,  as  was  to  be  expected,  the 
Tories  were  up  and  arming  in  all  the  north  country. 
Truly,  the  prospect  was  most  gloomy  and  the  out- 
look for  the  patriot  cause  was  to  the  full  as  desper- 
ate as  King  George  himself  could  wish. 

"But  you,  Ephraim,  and  the  chief,  here;  are  you 
two  running  away  like  all  the  others?"  Richard 
would  ask. 

The  old  hunter  growled  his  denial  between  the 
mouthfuls  of  scarce-warmed  meat.  "I  reckon  ez 
how  'tis  t'other  way  'round;  we're  sort  o'  camping 
on  the  redcoats'  trail,  ez  I  allow.  Ain't  we,  Chief, 
hey?" 

The  Catawba's  assent  was  a  guttural  "Wah !"  and 
Ephraim  Yeates  went  on  to  explain. 

"Ye  see,  'tis  this-away.  You  took  a  laugh  out'n 
me,  Cap'n  Dick,  for  spying  'round  on  that  there 
Britisher  hoss-captain  and  his  redskins;  but  'long 
to'ards  the  last  I  met  up  with  a  thing  'r  two  wo'th 
knowing.  'Twas  a  powder  and  lead  cargo  they  was 
a- waiting  for;  and  they're  allowing  to  sneak  it 
through  the  mountings  to  the  overhill  Cherokees." 

"Well?"  says  Dick. 


A   HORSE   BROUGHT   TIDINGS     215 

The  old  man  cut  another  slice  of  the  venison  and 
took  his  time  to  impale  it  on  the  forked  toasting 
stick. 

"Well,  then  I  says  to  the  chief,  here,  says  I, 
'Chief,  this  here's  our  A-number-one  chance  to 
spile  the  'Gyptians ;  get  heap  gun,  heap  powder, 
heap  lead,  heap  scalp.'  The  chief,  he  says,  'Wah!' 
— which  is  good  Injun-talk  for  anything  ye  like, — 
and  so  here  we  are,  hot-foot  on  the  trail  o'  that  there 
hoss-captain  and  his  powder  varmints." 

"Alone  ?"  said  I,  in  sheer  amazement  at  the  brazen 
effrontery  of  this  chase  of  half  a  hundred  well- 
armed  men  by  two. 

The  old  hunter  chuckled  his  dry  little  laugK. 
"We  ain't  sich  tarnation  big  fools  ez  we  look,  Cap'n 
John.  There's  a  good  plenty  of  'em  to  wallop  us, 
ez  I'll  allow,  if  it  come  to  fighting  'em  fair  and 
square.  But  there'll  be  some  dark  night  'r  other 
whenst  we  can  slip  up  on  'em  and  raise  a  scalp  'r 
two  and  lift  what  plunder  we  can  tote ;  hey,  Chief?" 

But  now,  Richard  would  inquire  what  time  in  the 
night  the  powder  convoy  left  Appleby  Hundred, 
and  if  Gilbert  Stair's  York  District  guests  had  trav- 
eled with  it.  To  these  askings  Yeates  made  answer 
that  Falconnet  and  his  troop,  with  the  Cherokee 
contingent,  had  taken  the  road  at  midnight,  or 
thereabouts ;  and  that  the  Witherbys,  with  Mistress 
Margery  riding  her  own  black  mare,  and  her  maid 
on  a  pillion  behind  a  negro  groom,  had  passed  some 
two  hours  later. 

This  was  as  we  had  hoped  it  might  be ;  but  when 


216       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

Dick's  satisfaction  would  have  set  itself  in  words, 
the  old  hunter  made  a  sudden  sign  for  silence  and 
quickly  flung  himself  full  length  to  lay  his  ear  to 
the  ground.  Whereat  we  all  began  likewise  to 
listen,  but  I,  for  one,  heard  nothing-  till  Yeates  said : 
"A  hoss ;  a-taking  the  back  track  like  old  Jehu  the 
son  of  Nimshi  was  a-giving  him  the  whip  and  spur," 
and  then  we  all  marked  the  distant  drumming  of 
hoofbeats. 

The  old  borderer  sprang  afoot,  kicked  the  fire 
into  the  stream,  and  caught  up  his  rifle.  "Let's  be 
a-moving,"  he  said.  "We  must  make  out  to  stop 
that  there  hoss-galloper  at  the  ford  and  find  out 
what-all  he's  a  rip-snorting  that-away  for." 

The  road  crossing  of  the  stream  was  but  a  little 
way  above  our  breakfast  camp ;  and  we  were  out  of 
the  thicket  in  time  to  see  the  horseman,  a  negro 
clinging  with  locked  arms  to  the  neck  of  his  mount, 
come  tearing  down  to  the  ford.  At  sight  of  us,  or 
else  because  he  would  not  take  the  water  at  full 
speed,  the  horse  reared,  pawed  the  air,  and  fell  clum- 
sily, carrying  his  skilless  rider  with  him. 

We  picked  the  black  up  and  soused  him  in  the 
stream  till  he  found  his  tongue ;  and  the  first  wag- 
ging of  that  useful  member  gave  us  news  to  fire  the 
blood  in  our  veins — in  Jennifer's  and  mine,  at  any 
rate. 

"Yah!"  he  screamed,  choking  out  the  muddy 
creek  water  that  had  well-nigh  strangled  him. 
"Yah!  red  debbil  In j ins  kill  ebberybody  and  tote  off 
Mistis  Marg'y  and  dat  Jeanne  'ooman !  Dat's  what 
dey  done !" 


XX 

IN  WHICH  WE  STRIVE  AS  MEN  TO  RUN  A  RACE 

It  was  some  time  before  the  affrighted  black 
could  give  us  any  connected  account  of  what  had 
befallen ;  and  when  at  length  the  story  was  told,  all 
save  the  principal  fact  of  the  carrying  off  of  Mis- 
tress Margery  and  her  maid  was  hazy  enough. 

Pruned  down  to  the  simple  statement  of  the  fact, 
and  with  all  the  foolish  terror  chatterings  weeded 
out,  his  news  came  to  this :  the  party  of  homing 
revelers  had  been  ambushed  and  waylaid  at  the 
fording  of  a  creek  some  miles  to  the  southward, 
and  in  the  mellay  the  young  mistress  and  her  tire- 
woman had  been  captured. 

So  far  as  any  actual  witness  of  the  eye  went,  the 
negro  had  seen  nothing.  There  had  been  a  volley 
fire  from  the  thicket-belly  of  black  darkness,  a 
swarming  attack  to  a  chorus  of  Indian  yells,  shouts 
from  the  men,  shrieks  from  the  women,  confusion 
worse  confounded  in  which  the  newsbearer  himself 
had  been  unhorsed  and  trodden  under  foot.  After 
which  he  knew  no  more  till  some  one — his  master, 
as  he  thought — kicked  him  alive  and  bade  him 
217 


218       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

mount  and  ride  post-haste  on  the  backward  track 
to  Appleby  Hundred,  crying  the  news  as  he  went 
that  Mistress  Margery  Stair  and  her  maid  had  been 
kidnapped  by  the  Indians. 

Pinned  to  the  mark  and  questioned  afresh,  the 
slave  could  not  affirm  of  his  own  knowledge  that 
any  one  had  been  killed  outright.  Pinned  again,  it 
proved  to  be  only  a  guess  of  his  that  the  one  who 
had  given  him  his  orders  was  his  master.  In  the 
darkness  and  confusion  he  could  make  sure  of  noth- 
ing; had  made  sure  of  nothing  save  his  own  frenzy 
of  terror  and  the  wording  of  the  message  he  carried. 

When  we  had  quizzed  him  empty  we  hoisted  him 
upon  his  beast  and  sent  him  once  more  a-gallop  on 
the  road  to  Appleby  Hundred.  That  done,  a  hur- 
ried council  of  war  was  held  in  which  we  four  fell 
apart,  three  against  one.  Jennifer  was  for  instant 
pursuit,  afoot  and  at  top  speed;  and  Ephraim 
Yeates  and  the  Catawba,  abandoning  their  own 
emprise  apparently  without  a  second  thought,  sided 
indifferently  with  him.  For  my  part,  I  was  for 
going  back  to  prepare  in  decent  order  for  a  cam- 
paign which  should  promise  something  more  hope- 
ful than  the  probability  of  speedy  exhaustion,  starv- 
ation and  failure. 

We  grew  hot  upon  it,  Richard  and  I ;  he  with  a 
young  lover's  unrecking  rashness,  and  I  with  an  old 
campaigner's  foresight  to  make  me  stubborn;  and 
Ephraim  Yeates  and  the  Catawba  drew  aside  and  let 
us  have  it  out.  Dick  argued  angrily  that  time  was 
the  all-important  item,  and  was  not  above  taunting 


WE    STRIVE   TO    RUN   A   RACE     219 

me  bitterly,  flinging  the  reproach  of  cold-blooded 
age  in  my  face  and  swearing  hotly  that  I  knew  not 
so  much  as  the  alphabet  of  love. 

The  taunts  were  passed  in  silence,  since  I  would 
set  them  over  against  the  irrevocable  wrong  I  had 
done  him,  saying  in  my  heart  that  nothing  he  could 
say  or  do  should  again  tempt  me  to  give  place  to  the 
devil  of  jealous  wrath. 

But  when  he  would  give  me  space  I  set  the  hope- 
lessness of  pursuit,  all  unprepared  as  we  were,  in 
plainest  speech.  The  chase  might  well  be  a  long 
one,  and  we  were  but  scantily  armed  and  without 
provisions.  The  hunter's  rifle  must  be  our  sole 
dependence  for  food,  and  in  the  summer  heat  we 
would  be  forced  to  kill  daily.  On  the  other  hand, 
with  horses,  a  bag  of  corn  apiece,  firearms  and  am- 
munition, we  should  be  in  some  more  hopeful  case  ; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  delay  in  starting,  could 
make  far  better  speed. 

For  all  the  good  it  did  I  might  have  spared  my 
pains  and  saved  my  breath.  Jennifer  broke  me  in 
the  midst,  crying  out  that  I  was  even  now  killing 
the  precious  minutes ;  and  so  our  ill-starred  venture 
had  its  launching  in  the  frenzied  haste  that  seldom 
makes  for  speed.  One  small  concession  I  wrung 
out  of  his  impatience — this  with  the  help  of  Yeates 
and  the  Catawba.  We  went  back  to  the  breakfast 
camp,  rekindled  the  fire,  and  cooked  what  we  could 
keep  and  carry  of  the  venison. 

In  spite  of  this  delay  it  was  yet  early  in  the  fore- 
noon of  that  memorable  Sunday,  the  twentieth  of 


220       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY, 

August,  when  we  set  our  faces  southward  and  took: 
up  the  line  of  march  to  the  ford  of  the  ambushmentj, 
By  now  the  sky  was  wholly  overcast,  and  the  wind 
was  blowing  fresher  in  the  tree-tops;  but  though 
as  yet  the  storm  held  off,  the  air  was  the  cooler  for 
the  threatened  rain  and  this  was  truly  a  blessing, 
since  the  old  hunter  put  us  keen  upon  our  mettle 
to  keep  pace  with  him. 

We  marched  in  Indian  file,  Ephraim  Yeates  in  the 
lead,  Uncanoola  at  his  heels,  and  the  two  of  us 
heavier-footed  ones  bringing  up  the  rear.  Knowing 
the  wooded  wilderness  by  length  and  breadth,  the 
old  man  held  on  through  thick  and  thin,  straight  as 
an  arrow  to  the  mark ;  and  so  we  had  never  a  sight 
of  the  road  again  till  we  came  out  upon  it  suddenly 
at  the  ford  of  violence. 

Here  I  should  have  been  in  despair  for  the  lack 
of  any  intelligible  hint  to  point  the  way ;  and  I 
think  not  even  Jennifer,  with  all  his  woodcraft, 
could  have  read  the  record  of  the  onfall  as  Yeates 
and  the  Catawba  did.  But  for  all  the  overlapping 
tangle  of  moccasin  and  hoof  prints  neither  of  these 
men  of  the  forest  was  at  fault,  though  ten  minutes 
later  even  their  skill  must  have  been  baffled,  inas- 
much as  the  first  few  spitting  raindrops  were  pat- 
tering in  the  tree-tops  when  we  came  upon  the 
ground. 

"That's  jest  about  what  I  was  most  afeard  of," 
said  the  borderer,  with  a  hasty  glance  skyward. 
"Down  on  your  hunkers,  Chief,  and  help  me  read 
this  sign  afore  the  good  Lord  takes  to  sending  His 


WE   STRIVE   TO   RUN   A   RACE     221 

rain  on  the  jest  and  the  unjest,"  and  therewith  these 
two  fell  to  quartering  all  the  ground  like  trained 
dogs  nosing  for  a  scent. 

We  stood  aside  and  watched  them,  Richard  and 
I,  realizing  that  we  were  of  small  account  and  should 
be  until,  perchance,  it  should  come  to  the  laying  on 
of  hearty  blows.  After  the  closest  scrutiny,  which 
took  account  of  every  broken  twig  and  trampled 
blade  of  grass,  this  prolonged  until  the  rain  was  fall- 
ing smartly  to  wash  out  all  the  foot-prints  in  the 
dusty  road,  Yeates  and  the  Indian  gave  over  and 
came  to  join  us  under  the  sheltering  branches  of 
an  oak. 

"  'Tis  a  mighty  cur'is  sign ;  most  mighty  cur'is," 
quoth  the  hunter,  slinging  the  rain-drops  from  his 
fur  cap  and  emptying  the  pan  of  his  rifle,  not  upon 
the  ground,  as  a  soldier  would,  but  saving  every 
precious  grain.  "Ez  I  allow,  I  never  heerd  tell  of 
any  Injuns  a-doing  that-away  afore;  have  you, 
Chief?  hey?" 

The  Catawba's  negative  was  his  guttural  "Wah," 
and  Ephraim  Yeates,  having  carefully  restored  the 
final  grain  of  the  priming  to  his  powder-horn,  pro- 
ceeded to  enlighten  us  at  some  length. 

"Mighty  cur'is,  ez  I  was  a-saying.  Them  Injuns 
fixed  up  an  ambushment,  blazed  in  a  volley  at  the 
clostest  sort  o'  range,  and  followed  it  up  with  a 
tomahawk  and  knife  rush, — lessen  that  there  Afri- 
kin  was  too  plumb  daddled  to  tell  any  truth,  what- 
somedever.  And,  spite  of  all  this  here  rampaging, 
they  never  drawed  a  single  drop  o'  blood  in  the 


THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 


whole  enduring  scrimmage!  Mighty  cur'is,  that; 
ain't  it,  now  ?  And  that  ain't  all  :  some  o'  them  same 
Injuns,  or  leastwise  one  of  'em,  was  a-wearing  boots 
with  spurs  onto  'em.  What  say,  Chief?" 

Uncanoola  held  up  all  the  fingers  of  one  hand 
and  two  of  the  other.  "Sebben  Injun;  one  pale- 
face," he  said,  in  confirmation. 

I  looked  at  Richard,  and  he  gave  me  back  the  eye- 
shot, with  a  hearty  curse  to  speed  it. 

"Falconnet  !"  said  he,  by  way  of  tail-piece  to 
the  oath  ;  and  I  nodded. 

"  'Twas  that  there  same  hoss-captain,  sure 
enough,  ez  I  reckon,"  drawled  Yeates.  "Maybe  one 
o'  you  two  can  tell  what-all  he  mought  be  a-driv- 
ing  at." 

Jennifer  shook  his  head,  and  I,  too,  was  silent. 
'Twas  out  of  all  reason  to  suppose  that  the  baronet 
would  resort  to  sheer  violence  and  make  a  terrified 
captive  of  the  woman  he  wanted  to  marry.  It  was 
a  curious  mystery,  and  the  hunter's  next  word  in- 
volved it  still  more. 

"And  yit  that  ain't  all.  Whilst  some  o'  the  Injuns 
was  a-whooping  it  up  acrost  the  creek,  a-chasing 
the  folks  that  was  making  tracks  for  their  city  o' 
refuge,  t'others  run  the  two  gals  off  into  the  big 
woods  at  the  side  o'  the  road.  Then  Mister  Hoss- 
Captain  picks  up  the  Afrikin,  chucks  him  on  a  hoss 
and  sends  him  a-kiting  with  his  flea  in  his  ear  ;  after 
which  he  climbs  his  hoss  and  makes  tracks  hisself  — 
not  to  ketch  up  with  the  gals,  ez  you  mought  reckon, 


WE   STRIVE   TO   RUN   A   RACE     223 

but  off  yon  way,"  pointing  across  the  creek  and 
down  the  road  to  the  southward. 

Jennifer  heard  him  through,  had  him  set  it  all 
out  again  in  plainest  fashion,  and  after  all  could  only 
say:  "You  are  sure  you  have  the  straight  of  it, 
Eph?" 

The  borderer  appealed  to  Uncanoola.  "Come, 
Chief;  give  us  the  wo'th  of  your  jedgment.  Has 
the  old  Gray  Wolf  gone  stun-blind?  or  did  he  read 
them  sign  like  they'd  ort  to  be  read?" 

"Wah !  the  Gray  Wolf  has  sharp  eye — sharp  nose 
— sharp  tongue,  sometime.  Sign  no  can  lie  when  he 
read  'um." 

Jennifer  turned  to  me.  "What  say  you,  Jack? 
'Tis  all  far  enough  beyond  me,  I'll  confess." 

I  was  as  much  at  sea  touching  the  mystery  as  he 
was ;  yet  the  thing  to  do  seemed  plain  enough. 

"Never  mind  the  baronet's  mystery ;  'tis  Mistress 
Margery's  hazard  that  concerns  us,"  I  would  say. 
And  then  to  Ephraim  Yeates :  "Will  this  rain  kill 
the  trail,  think  you  ?" 

He  shook  his  head  dubiously.  "I  dunno  for  sar- 
tain ;  'twill  make  a  heap  o'  differ'  if  they  was  any- 
ways anxious  to  hide  it.  Ez  it  starts  out,  with  the 
women  a-hossback,  'tis  plain  enough  for  a  blind 
man  to  lift  on  the  run." 

"Then  let  us  be  at  it,"  said  I.  "We  can  very 
well  afford  to  let  the  mystery  untangle  itself  as  we 
go."  And  with  this  the  pursuit  began  in  relentless 
earnest. 


The  trail  of  the  two  horses  ridden  by  Margery 
and  her  woman  cut  a  right  angle  with  the  road, 
turning  northwest  along  the  left  bank  of  the  stream ; 
and,  despite  the  rain,  which  was  now  pouring  stead- 
ily even  in  the  thick  wood,  the  hoof-prints  were  so 
plainly  marked  that  we  could  follow  at  a  smart 
dog-trot. 

In  this  speeding  the  old  hunter  and  the  Indian 
easily  outwearied  Jennifer  and  me.  They  both  ran 
with  a  slow  swinging  leap,  like  the  racking  gait, 
half  pace,  half  gallop,  of  a  well-trained  troop  horse. 
Mile  after  mile  they  put  behind  them  in  these  swing- 
ing bounds ;  and  when,  well  on  in  the  afternoon, 
we  stopped  to  eat  a  snack  of  the  cold  meat  and  to 
slake  our  thirst  at  one  of  the  many  rain  pools,  I  was 
fain  to  follow  Jennifer's  lead,  throwing  myself  flat 
on  the  soaking  mold  to  pant  and  gasp  and  pay  off 
the  arrears  of  breathlessness. 

This  breathing  halt  was  of  the  briefest ;  but  before 
the  race  began  again,  Ephraim  Yeates  took  time  to 
make  a  careful  scrutiny  of  the  trail,  measuring  the 
stride  of  the  horses,  and  looking  sharply  on  the 
briars  for  some  bit  of  cloth  or  other  token  of  assur- 
ance. When  we  came  up  with  him  he  was  mum- 
bling to  himself. 

"Um-'hm;  jes'  so.  They  was  a-making  tracks 
along  hereaway,  sartain,  sure;  larruping  them 
bosses  to  a  keen  jump,  lickity-split.  Now,  says  I 
to  myself,  what's  the  tarnation  hurry?  Ain't  they 
got  all  the  time  there  is  to  get  where  they're  a-going, 
immejitly,  if  not  sooner?"  Then  he  turned  upon 


WE   STRIVE   TO   RUN  A  RACE    225 

me.  "Cap'n  John,  can't  you  and  the  youngster  lay 
your  heads  side  and  side  and  make  out  what-all  this 
here  hoss-captain  mought  be  up  to  ?  It  do  look  like 
he  had  some  sort  o'  hatchet  to  grind,  a-sending  that 
Afrikin  back  to  raise  a  hue  and  cry,  and  then  a-let- 
ting  his  Injuns  leave  a  trail  like  this  here  that  any 
tow-head  boy  from  the  settlemints  could  follow  at  a 
canter." 

Richard  said  he  could  never  guess  the  meaning  of 
it  all ;  and  my  mind  was  to  the  full  as  blank  as  his. 
I  made  sure  some  deep-laid  plot  was  at  the  bottom 
of  the  mystery ;  but  we  had  measured  many  weary 
miles  in  the  wilderness,  and  the  plotter's  trap  had 
been  fairly  baited,  set  and  sprung,  before  the  light- 
ning flash  of  explication  came  to  show  us  all  its 
devilish  ingenuity. 

But  now  "Forward,"  was  the  word,  and  we  fell 
in  line  again,  and  again  the  tireless  running  of  the 
two  guides  stretched  and  held  us  on  the  rack  of 
weariness.  Happily  for  us  two  who  were  out  of 
training,  the  rainy-day  dusk  came  early ;  and  though 
Yeates  and  the  Indian,  running  now  with  their  bod- 
ies bent  double  and  their  noses  to  the  ground,  held 
on  long  after  Richard  Jennifer  and  I  were  bat- 
blind  for  any  seeing  of  the  hoof-prints,  the  end  came 
at  length  and  we  bivouacked  as  we  were,  fireless, 
and  with  the  last  of  the  cooked  ration  of  deer's 
meat  for  a  scanty  supper. 

After  the  meal,  which  was  swallowed  hastily  in 
the  silence  of  utter  fatigue,  we  scooped  a  hollow  in 
a  last  year's  leaf  bed  and  lay  down  to  sleep,  wet  to 


226       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

the  skin  as  any  four  half-drowned  water  rats,  and 
to  the  full  as  miserable. 

Fagged  as  I  was,  'twas  a  long  time  before  sleep 
came  to  make  me  forget;  a  weary  interval  fraught 
with  dismal  mental  miseries  to  march  step  and  step 
with  the  treadmill  rackings  of  the  aching  muscles. 
What  grievous  hap  had  befallen  my  dear  lady  ?  and 
how  much  or  how  little  was  I  to  blame  for  this 
kidnapping  of  her  by  my  relentless  enemy?  Was 
it  a  sharp  foreboding  of  some  such  resort  to  savage 
violence  that  had  tortured  her  into  sending  the 
appeal  for  help  ? 

With  this,  I  fell  to  dwelling  afresh  upon  the 
wording  of  her  message,  hungering  avidly  for  some 
hint  to  give  me  leave  to  claim  it  for  my  own. 
Though  I  made  sure  she  did  not  love  me, — had 
never  loved  me  as  other  than  a  make-shift  con- 
fidant, whose  face  and  age  would  set  him  far  be- 
yond the  pale  of  sentiment, — yet  I  had  hoped  this 
friendship-love  would  give  her  leave  to  call  upon 
me  in  her  hour  of  need. 

Was  I  the  one  to  whom  her  message  had  been 
sped?  Suddenly  I  remembered  what  Richard  had 
said;  that  the  arrow  was  the  Catawba's.  If  Un- 
canoola  were  the  bearer  of  the  parchment,  he  would 
surely  know  to  whom  he  had  been  sent. 

His  burrow  in  the  leaf  bed  chanced  to  be  next 
to  mine,  and  I  could  hear  his  steady  breathing, 
light  and  long-drawn,  like  that  of  some  wild  crea- 
ture— as,  truly,  he  was — sleeping  with  all  the  senses 
alert  to  spring  awake  at  a  touch  or  the  snapping  of 


WE   STRIVE   TO   RUN   A   RACE 

a  twig.  A  word  would  arouse  him,  and  a  single 
question  might  resolve  the  doubt. 

I  thought  of  all  this,  and  yet,  when  I  would  have 
wakened  the  Indian,  a  shaking  ague-fit  of  poltroon 
cowardice  gave  me  pause.  For  while  the  doubt  re- 
mained there  was  a  chance  to  hope  that  she  had 
sent  to  me,  making  the  little  cry  for  help  a  token, 
not  of  love,  perchance,  but  of  some  dawning  of  for- 
giveness for  my  desperate  wronging  of  her.  And 
in  that  hesitant  moment  it  was  borne  in  upon  me 
that  without  this  slender  chance  for  hope  I  should 
go  mad  and  become  a  wretched  witling  at  a  time 
when  every  faculty  should  be  superhuman  sharp 
and  strong  for  spending  in  her  service. 

So  I  forebore  to  wake  the  Indian ;  and  following 
out  this  thought  of  service  fitness,  would  force  my- 
self to  go  to  sleep  and  so  to  gather  fresh  strength 
for  the  new  day's  measure. 


XXI 

HOW  WE  KEPT  LENTEN  VIGILS  IN  TRINITYTIDE 

'Twould  weary  you  beyond  the  limit  of  good-na- 
ture were  I  to  try  to  picture  out  at  large  the  varied 
haps  and  hazards  of  our  wanderings  in  the  savage 
wilderness.  For  the  actors  in  any  play  the  trivial 
details  have  their  place  and  meaning  momentous 
enough,  it  may  be ;  yet  these  are  often  wearisome  to 
the  box  or  stall  yawning  impatiently  for  the  climax. 

So,  if  you  please,  you  are  to  conceive  us  four,  the 
strangest  ill-assorted  company  on  the  footstool, 
pushing  on  from  day  to  day  deeper  and  ever  deeper 
into  the  pathless  forest  solitudes,  yet  always  with 
the  plain-marked  trail  to  guide  us. 

At  times  the  march"  measured  a  full  day's  length 
amid  the  columned  aisles  of  the  forest  temple 
through  lus'K  green  glades  dank  and  steaming  in 
the  August  heat,  or  over  hillsides  slippery  with  the 
fallen  leaves  of  the  pine-trees.  Anon  it  traced  the 
crooked  windings  of  some  brawling  mountain 
stream  through  thicket  tangles  where,  you 'would 
think,  no  woman-ridden  horse  could  penetrate. 

One  day  the  sun  would  shine  resplendent  and  all 
228 


LENTEN   VIGILS  229 

the  columned  distances  would  fill  with"  soft  suffus- 
ings  of  the  gray  and  green  and  gold,  with  here  and 
there  a  dusky  flame  where  the  sweet-gum  heralded 
the  autumn,  whilst  overhead  the  leafy  arches  were 
fine-lined  traceries  and  arabesques  against  the  blue. 
But  in  the  night,  mayhap,  a  dismal  rain  would  come, 
chill  with  the  breath  of  the  nearing  mountains ;  and 
then  the  trees  turned  into  dripping  sprinkling-pots 
to  drench  us  where  we  lay,  sodden  already  with  the 
heaviness  of  exhaustion. 

Since  the  hasting  pursuit  was  a  thing  to  tap  the 
very  fountain-head  of  fortitude  and  endurance,  we 
fared  on  silent  for  the  better  part;  and  in  a  little 
time  the  hush  of  the  solitudes  laid  fast  hold  of  us, 
scanting  us  of  speech  and  bidding  us  go  softly.  And 
after  this  the  march  became  a  soundless  shadow- 
flitting,  and  we  a  straggling  file  of  voiceless 
mechanisms  wound  up  and  set  to  measure  off  the 
miles  till  famine  or  exhaustion  should  thrust  a  finger 
in  among  the  wheels  and  bid  them  stop  forever. 

This  was  the  loom  on  which  we  wove  the  back- 
ward-reaching web  of  strenuous  onpressing.  But 
through  that  web  the  scarlet  thread  of  famine  shut- 
tled in  and  out,  and  hunger  came  and  marched  with 
us  till  all  the  days  and  nights  were  filled  with  crav- 
ings, and  we  recked  little  of  fair  skies  or  dripping 
clouds,  or  aught  besides  save  this  ever-present  spec- 
ter of  starvation. 

You  will  not  think  it  strange  that  I  should  have 
but  dim  and  misty  memories  of  this  fainting  time. 
Of  all  privations  famine  soonest  blunts  the  senses, 


•230       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBYi 

making  a  man  oblivious  of  all  save  that  which  drives 
him  onward.  The  happenings  that  I  remember 
clearest  are  those  which  turned  upon  some  tempo- 
rary bridging  of  the  hunger  gulf.  One  was  Yeates's 
killing  of  a  milch  doe  which,  with  her  fawn,  ran 
across  our  path  when  we  had  fasted  two  whole 
days.  By  this,  a  capital  crime  in  any  hunter's  code, 
you  may  guess  how  cruelly  we  were  nipped  in  the 
hunger  vise.  Also,  I  remember  this :  as  if  to  mock 
us  all  the  glades  and  openings  on  the  hillsides  were 
thicketed  with  berry  bushes,  long  past  bearing. 
And,  being  too  late  for  these,  we  were  as  much  too 
early  for  the  nuts  of  the  hickory  and  chestnut  and 
black  walnut  that  pelted  us  in  passing. 

The  doe's  meat,  coming  at  a  time  of  sharpest 
need,  set  us  two  days  farther  on  the  march; 
and  when  that  was  spent  or  spoiled  we  did  as  we 
could,  being  never  comfortably  filled,  I  think,  and 
oftener  haggard  and  enfeebled  for  the  want  of  food. 
Since  we  dared  not  stop  to  go  aside  for  game,  the 
Catawba  would  set  over-night  snares  for  rabbits; 
and  for  another  shift  we  cut  knobbed  sticks  for 
throwing  and  ran  keen-eyed  along  the  trace,  alert 
to  murder  anything  alive  and  fit  to  eat.  In  this  hap- 
hazard hunting  nothing  ever  fell  to  Jennifer's 
skilless  clubbing,  or  to  mine ;  but  the  old  borderer 
and  the  Indian  were  better  marksmen,  and  now  and 
then  some  bird  or  squirrel  or  rabbit  sitting  on  its 
form  came  to  the  pot,  though  never  enough  of  all 
or  any  to  more  than  sharpen  the  famine  edge  of 
hunger. 


LENTEN  VIGILS  231 

For  all  the  sharp  privations  of  the  forced  marcK 
there  was  no  hint  on  any  lip  of  turning  back.  With 
Margery's  desperate  need  to  key  us  to  the  unflinch- 
ing pitch,  Richard  and  I  would  go  on  while  there 
was  strength  to  set  one  foot  before  the  other.  But 
for  the  old  borderer  and  the  Indian  there  was  no 
such  bellows  to  blow  the  fire  of  perseverance.  None 
the  less,  these  two  did  more  than  second  us;  they 
set  the  strenuous  pace  and  held  us  to  it;  the 
Catawba  Spartan-proud  and  uncomplaining ;  the  old 
hunter  no  whit  less  tireless  and  enduring.  At  this 
far-distant  day  I  can  close  my  eyes  and  see  the 
gaunt,  leather-clad  figure  of  Ephraim  Yeates, 
striding  on  always  in  the  lead  and  ever  pressing 
forward,  tough,  wiry  and  iron  to  endure,  and  yet 
withal  so  elastic  that  the  shrewdest  discouragement 
served  only  to  make  him  rebound  and  strike  the 
harder.  Good  stuff  and  true  there  was  in  that  old 
man ;  and  had  Richard  or  I  been  less  determined, 
his  fine  and  noble  heroism  in  a  cause  which  was  not 
his  own  would  have  shamed  us  into  following  where 
he  led. 

We  had  been  ten  days  in  this  starving  wilderness, 
driving  onward  at  the  pace  that  kills  and  making 
the  most  of  every  hour  of  daylight,  before  Yeates 
and  the  Indian  began  to  give  us  hope  that  we  were 
finally  closing  in  upon  our  quarry. 

The  dragging  length  of  the  chase  grew  upon  two 
conditions.  From  the  beginning  the  kidnappers 
were  able  to  increase  their  lead  by  stretching  out  the 
days  and  borrowing  from  the  nights;  also,  they 


232       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

were  doubtless  well  provisioned,  and  they  had 
horses  for  the  captives  and  their  impedimenta.  But 
as  for  us,  we  could  follow  only  while  the  daylight 
let  us  see  the  trail ;  and  though  we  ran  well  at  first,' 
the  lack  of  proper  food  soon  took  toll  of  speed. 

So  now,  though  the  hoof  prints  grew  hourly 
fresher,  and  we  were  at  last  so  close  upon  the  heels 
of  the  kidnappers  that  their  night  camp-fires  were 
scarcely  cold  when  we  came  upon  them,  we  ran  no 
longer — could  hardly  keep  a  dogged  foot-pace  for 
the  hunger  pains  that  griped  and  bent  us  double. 

The  tenth  day,  as  I  well  remember,  was  furnace- 
hot,  as  were  all  the  fair-weather  days  of  that  never- 
to-be-forgotten  summer,  with  a  still  air  in  the  forest 
that  hung  thick  and  lifeless  like  the  atmosphere  of 
an  oven ;  this  though  we  were  well  among  the  moun- 
tains and  rising  higher  with  every  added  mile  of 
westering. 

The  sun  had  passed  tHe  meridian,  and  we  were 
toiling,  sweaty-weak,  up  a  rock-strewn  mountain 
side,  when  a  thing  occurred  to  rouse  us  roughly 
from  the  famine  stupor  and  set  us  watchfully  alert. 
In  the  steepest  part  of  the  ascent  where  the  wood, 
scanted  of  rooting  ground  by  the  thickly  sown 
strewing  of  boulders,  was  open  and  free  of  under- 
growth, Ephraim  Yeates  halted  suddenly,  signed  to 
us  with  upflung  hand,  and  dropped  behind  a  tree  as 
one  shot ;  and  in  the  same  breath  the  Catawba,  run- 
ning at  Yeates's  heels,  lurched  aside  and  vanished  as 
if  the  earth  had  gaped  and  swallowed  him. 

A  moment  later  the  twang  of  a  bow-string  buzzed 


LENTEN   VIGILS  233. 

upon  the  breathless  noontide  stillness,  and  Jennifer 
clutched  and  dragged  me  down  in  good  time  to  let 
the  arrow  whistle  harmless  over  us.  Then,  like  a 
distorted  echo  of  the  buzzing  bow-string,  the  sharp 
crack  of  the  old  borderer's  rifle  rang  out  smartly, 
setting  the  cliff-crowned  mountain  side  all  a-clamor 
with  mocking  repetitions. 

"Missed  him,  slick  and  clean,  by  the  eternal  coon- 
skin  !"  growled  the  marksman,  sitting  up  behind  his 
tree  to  reload.  "That  there's  what  comes  o'  being 
so  dad-blame'  hongry  that  ye  can't  squinch  fair 
atween  the  gun-sights.  I  reckon  ez  how  ye'd  better 
hunker  down  and  lie  clost,  you  two.  'Twouldn't 
s'prise  me  none  if  that  redskin  had  a  wheen  more  o' 
them  sharp-p'inted  sticks  in  his —  The  Lord  be 
praised  for  all  His  marcies !  the  chief's  got  him !" 

But  Uncanoola  had  not.  He  came  in  presently, 
his  black  eyes  snapping  with  disappointment, 
saying  in  answer  to  Yeates's  question  that  the  yell 
had  been  his  own ;  that  his  tomahawk  had  sped  no 
truer  than  the  old  borderer's  bullet. 

"Chelakee  snake  heap  slick:  heap  quick  dodge," 
was  all  we  could  get  out  of  him ;  and  when  that  was 
said  he  squatted  calmly  on  a  flat  stone  and  fell  to 
work  grinding  the  nick  out  of  the  edge  of  the  mis- 
sped  hatchet. 

This  incident  told  us  plainly  enough  that  the 
kidnappers  were  now  but  a  little  way  ahead,  and 
that  their  rear-guard  scouts  were  holding  us  well  in 
hand.  So  from  that  on  we  went  as  men  whose  lives 
are  held  in  pawn  by  a  hidden  foe,  looking  at  every 


234       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY,    » 

turn  for  an  ambushment.  Nevertheless,  we  were 
not  waylaid  again ;  and  when  at  length  the  long  hot 
afternoon  drew  to  its  close  with  the  mountain  of 
peril  well  behind  us,  we  had  neither  seen  nor  heard 
aught  else  of  the  Cherokees. 

That  night  we  camped,  fireless  and  foodless, 
on  the  banks  of  a  swift-flowing  stream  in  a  valley 
between  two  great  mountains.  We  reached  this 
stream  a  little  before  dark,  and  since  the  trail  led 
straight  into  the  water,  we  would  have  put  this 
obstacle  behind  us  if  we  could.  But  though  the 
little  river  was  not  above  five  or  six  poles  in  width 
it  was  exceeding  swift  and  deep;  so  impassable,  in 
truth,  that  we  were  moved  to  wonder  how  the  cap- 
tive party  had  made  shift  to  cross. 

We  guessed  at  it  a  while,  Richard  and  I,  and  then 
gave  it  up  until  we  might  have  the  help  of  better 
daylight.  But  the  old  borderer's  curiosity  was  not 
so  readily  postponed.  Cutting  a  slim  pole  from  a 
sapling  thicket,  he  waded  in  cautiously,  anchoring 
himself  by  the  drooping  branches  of  the  willows 
whilst  he  prodded  and  sounded  and  proved  beyond 
a  doubt  that  the  current  was  over  man-head  deep, 
and  far  too  rapid  for  swimming. 

Satisfied  of  this,  he  came  out,  dripping,  and  with 
a  monitory  word  to  us  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout,  dis- 
appeared up-stream  in  the  growing  dusk,  his  long 
rifle  at  the  trail,  and  his  body  bent  to  bring  his  keen 
old  eyes  the  nearer  to  the  ground. 


XXII 

HOW   THE   FATES   GAVE   LARGESS   OF  DESPAIR 

Ephraim  Yeates  was  gone  a  full  hour.  When  he 
returned  he  gave  us  cause  to  wonder  at  his  lack  of 
caution,  since  he  filled  his  earthen  Indian  pipe  and 
coolly  struck  a  light  wherewith  to  fire  it.  But  when 
the  pipe  was  aglow  he  told  us  of  his  findings. 

"  'Twas  about  ez  I  reckoned ;  them  varmints 
waded  in  the  shallows  a  spell  to  throw  us  off,  and 
then  came  out  and  forded  higher  up." 

"That  will  be  a  shrewd  guess  of  yours,  I  take  it, 
Ephraim?"  said  I;  for  the  night  was  black  as 
Erebus. 

"Ne'er  a  guess  at  all;  I've  had  'em  fair  at  eye- 
holts,"  this  as  calmly  as  if  we  had  not  been  for  ten 
long  days  pinning  our  faith  to  an  ill-defined  trace 
of  foot-prints.  "Ez  I  was  a-going  on  to  say,  they're, 
incamped  on  t'other  bank  ruther  eenside  o'  two 
sights  and  a  horn-blow  from  this.  I  saw  'em  and 
counted  'em :  seven  redskins  and  the  two  gals." 

"Thank  God!"  says  Richard,  as  fervently  as  if 
our  rescue  of  the  women  were  already  a  thing  ac- 
complished. Then  he  fell  upon  the  scout  with  an 
235 


•236       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

eager  question:  "How  does  she  look,  Ephraim? — 
tell  me  how  she  looks !'' 

"Listen  at  him!"  said  the  old  man,  cackling  his 
dry  little  laugh.  "How  in  tarnation  am  I  going  to 
know  which  'she'  he's  a-stewing  about?  There's  a 
pair  of  'em,  and  they  both  look  like  wimmin  ez  have 
been  dragged  hilter-skilter  through  the  big  woods 
for  some  better  'n  a  week.  Natheless,  they're  fit- 
ting to  set  up  and  take  their  nourishment,  both  on 
'em.  They  was  perching  on  a  log  afore  the  fire, 
with  ever'  last  idintical  one  o'  them  redskins  a-wait- 
ing  on  'em  like  they  was  a  couple  of  Injun  queens. 
I  reckon  ez  how  the  hoss-captain  gave  them  var- 
mints their  orders,  partic'lar." 

Dick  was  upon  his  feet,  lugging  out  the  great 
broadsword. 

"Show  us  the  way,  Eph  Yeates!"  he  burst  out 
impatiently.  "We  are  wasting  a  deal  of  precious 
time!" 

But  the  old  man  only  puffed  the  more  placidly 
at  his  pipe,  making  no  move  to  head  a  sortie. 

"Fair  and  easy,  Cap'n  Dick ;  fair  and  easy.  There 
ain't  no  manner  o'  hurry,  ez  I  allow.  Whenst  I've 
got  to  tussle  with  a  wheen  o'  full  redskins,  and  me 
with  my  stummick  growed  fast  to  my  backbone,  I 
jest  ez  soon  wait  till  them  same  redskins  are  asleep. 
Bime-by  they'll  settle  down  for  the  night,  and  then 
we'll  go  up  yonder  and  pizen  'em  immejitly,  if  not 
sooner.  But  there  ain't  no  kind  o'  use  to  spile  it  all 
by  rampaging  'round  too  soon." 

There  was  wisdom  undeniable  in  this,  and,  ac- 


LARGESS   OF   DESPAIR  237 

cordingly,  we  waited,  taking  turns  at  the  hunter's 
terrible  pipe  in  lieu  of  supper,  and  laying  our  plan 
of  attack.  This  last  was  simple  enough,  as  our  re- 
sources, or  rather  our  lack  of  them,  would  make  it. 
At  midnight  we  would  move  upon  the  enemy,  feel- 
ing our  way  along  the  river  till  we  should  discover 
the  ford  by  which  the  captive  party  had  crossed. 
The  stream  safely  passed,  we  would  deploy  and  sur- 
round the  camp  of  the  Indians,  and  at  the  signal, 
which  was  to  be  the  report  of  Yeates's  rifle,  we  were 
to  close  in  and  smite,  giving  no  quarter. 

The  old  borderer  dwelt  at  length  upon  the  need 
for  this  severity,  saying  that  a  single  Cherokee  es- 
caping would  bring  the  warriors  of  the  Erati  tribe 
down  upon  us  to  cut  off  all  chance  of  our  retreat 
with  the  women. 

"Onless  I'm  mightily  out  o'  my  reckoning,  this 
here  spot  we're  a-setting  on  ain't  more  than  a  day's 
Injun-running  from  the  Tuckasege  Towns.  With 
them  gals  to  hender  us  we  ain't  a-going  to  be  in  no 
fettle  for  a  skimper-scamper  race  with  a  fresh 
wheen  o'  the  redskins.  Therefore  and  wherefore, 
says  I,  make  them  chopping-knives  o'  your'n  cut  and 
come  again,  even  to  the  driving  erpart  of  soul  and 
marrer." 

Dick  laughed,  and,  speaking  for  both  of  us,  said 
between  his  teeth  that  we  were  not  like  to  be.  over- ' 
merciful. 

But  now  the  old  wolf  of  the  border  gave  us  a 
glimpse  of  an  unsuspected  side  of  him,  taking  Jenni- 
fer sharply  to  task  and  reading  him  a  homily  on  the 


238       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

sin  of  vengeance  for  vengeance's  sake.  In  tffis 
harangue  he  evinced  a  most  astonishing  tongue- 
grasp  of  Scripture,  and  for  a  good  half-hour  the  air 
was  thick  with  texts.  And  to  cap  the  climax,  when 
the  sermon  paused  he  laid  his  pipe  aside,  doffed  his 
cap,  and  went  upon  his  knees  to  pour  forth  such  a 
militant  prayer  as  brought  my  father's  stories  of 
the  grim  old  fighting  Roundheads  most  vividly  to 
mind. 

Here,  being  as  good  a  place  as  any,  I  may  say 
frankly  that  I  never  fully  understood  this  side  of 
Ephraim  Yeates.  Like  all  the  hardy  borderers,  he 
was  a  fighter  by  instinct  and  inclination ;  and  I  can 
bear  him  witness  that  when  he  smote  the  "Amale- 
kites,"  as  he  would  call  them — red  skin  or  red  coat — 
he  smote  them  hip  and  thigh,  and  was  as  ruthless  as 
that  British  Captain  Turnbull  who  slew  the 
wounded.  Yet  withal,  on  the  very  edge  of  battle, 
or  mayhap  fair  in  the  midst  of  it,  he  was  like  to  fall 
upon  his  knees  to  pray  most  fervently;  though,  as 
I  have  hinted,  his  prayers  were  like  his  blows — of 
the  biting  sort,  full  of  Scriptural  anathema  upon  the 
enemy. 

Richard  Jennifer,  carelessly  profane  as  all  men 
were  in  that  most  godless  day,  would  say  'twas  the 
old  borderer's  way  of  swearing;  that  since  he  left 
out  the  oaths  in  common  speech, — as,  truly,  he 
did, — He  would  fetch  up  the  arrears  and  wipe  out  the 
score  in  one  fell  blast  upon  his  knees.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  he  was  a  good  man  and  a  true,  as  I  have  said ; 
and  his  warlike  supplication  that  our  blades  should 


LARGESS   OF   DESPAIR  ±239 

be  as  the  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon  in  the 
coming  onfall  was  no  whit  out  of  place. 

It  wanted  yet  a  full  hour  of  midnight  when  Rich- 
ard began  again  to  plead  piteously  for  instant 
action.  Yeates  thought  it  still  over-early ;  but  when 
Jennifer  pressed  him  hard  the  old  borderer  left  the 
casting  vote  to  me. 

"What  say  ye,  Cap'n  John?  Your'n  will  be  the 
next  oldest  head,  and  I  reckon  it  hain't  been  turned 
plumb  foolish  rampaging  crazy  by  this  here  purty 
gal  o'  Gilbert  Stair's." 

Now  you  have  read  thus  far  in  my  poor  tale  to 
little  purpose  if  you  have  not  yet  discovered  the 
major  weakness  of  an  old  campaigner,  which  is  to 
weigh  and  measure  all  the  chances,  holding  it  to 
the  full  as  culpable  to  strike  too  soon  as  too  late. 
This  weakness  was  mine,  and  in  that  evil  moment  I 
gave  my  vote  for  further  waiting,  arguing  sapiently 
that  my  old  field-marshal  would  never  set  a  night 
assault  afoot  till  well  on  toward  the  dawn. 

Jennifer  heard  me  through  and  yielded,  perforce, 
though  with  little  good-will. 

"I  can  not  compass  it  alone,  or,  by  the  gods,  I'd 
go !"  he  asserted,  angrily.  "Mark  you,  John  Ireton, 
this  delay  is  a  thing  you'll  rue  whilst  you  live. 
Your  cold-cut  pros  and  cons  mouth  well  enough, 
and  I'm  no  soldier-lawyer  to  argue  them  down. 
But  something  better  than  your  damnable  reasons 
tells  me  that  the  hour  has  struck — that  these  very 
present  seconds  are  priceless."  Whereupon  he 
flung  himself  face  down  in  the  grass  and  would 


240 

not  speak  again  until  the  waiting  time  was  fully 
over  and  Yeates  gave  the  word  to  fall  in  line  for 
the  advance. 

Having  learned  the  lay  of  the  land  in  his  earlier 
reconnaissance,  the  old  borderer  shortened  the  dis- 
tance for  us  by  guiding  us  across  the  neck  of  a 
horseshoe  bend  in  the  stream;  and  a  half -hour's 
blind  groping  through  the  forest  fetched  us  out 
upon  the  river  bank  again,  this  time  precisely  oppo- 
site the  Indians'  lodge  fire  on  the  other  side. 

Here  there  was  a  little  pause  for  three  of  us 
while  Ephraim  Yeates  crept  down  the  bank  to  try 
with  his  sounding-pole  what  chance  we  had  of  cross- 
ing. 

Measured  by  what  could  be  seen  from  our  covert, 
the  narrow  width  of  quick  water  seemed  the  last  of 
the  many  obstacles. 

Lulled  to  security,  as  we  guessed,  by  the  apparent 
success  of  their  ruse  to  throw  us  off  the  scent,  six 
of  the  Cherokees  were  lying  feet  to  fire  like  the 
spokes  of  a  wheel  for  which  the  fitful  blaze  was  the 
hub.  The  seventh  man  was  squatted  before  a  small 
tepee-lodge  of  dressed  skins,  which,  as  we  took  it, 
would  be  the  sleeping  quarters  of  the  captives. 
Whilst  all  the  others  lay  stiff  and  stark  as  if  wrapped 
in  soundest  sleep,  this  sentry  guard,  too,  it  seemed, 
was  scarcely  more  than  half  awake,  for  as  we 
looked,  his  gun  was  slipping  from  the  hollow  of  his 
arm  and  he  was  nodding  to  forgetfulness. 

Richard  was  a-crouch  beside  me  in  this  peeping 


LARGESS   OF   DESPAIR  241 

reconnaissance,  and  I  could  feel  him  trembling  in 
impatient  eagerness. 

"It  should  be  easy  enough — what  think  you?"  he 
whispered ;  and  then,  with  a  sudden  grasp  upon  my 
wrist :  "You  are  cool  and  steady-nerved,  John  Ire- 
ton  ;  I  swear  you  do  not  love  her  as  I  do !" 
'  "Nay,  I  grant  you  that,  Dick,"  said  I,  making 
sure  that  his  excitement  would  obscure  the  double 
meaning  in  the  admission.  And  then  I  added,  sin- 
cerely enough :  "She  has  never  given  me  the  right 
to  love  her  at  all." 

"God  help  her  at  this  pass !"  he  said,  more  to  him- 
self than  to  me ;  and  then  he  would  go  in  a  breath 
from  blessing  Margery  to  cursing  Ephraim  Yeates 
for  this  fresh  delay. 

It  was  Uncanoola  who  broke  in  upon  the  mut- 
tered malediction. 

"Wah !  Captain  Jennif '  cuss  plenty  heap,  like  mis- 
sionary medicine-man.  Look-see!  Uncanoola  no 
can  find  white  squaw  horse  yonder.  Mebbe  Captain 
Jennif  see  'um,  hey  ?" 

At  his  word  we  both  looked  for  the  horses,  mark- 
ing now  that  they  were  nowhere  to  be  seen  within 
the  circle  lighted  by  the  lodge  fire.  The  Catawba 
grunted  his  doubt  that  the  enemy  was  as  inalert 
as  he  appeared  to  be ;  then  he  set  the  doubt  in  words. 
"Chelakee  heap  slick.  Sleep  only  one  eye,  mebbe, 
hey?  Injun  warrior  no  hide  horse  and  go  sleep 
both  eye  on  war-path !" 

Here  our  scout  came  gliding  back,  so  noiselessly 


242        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

that  he  was  within  arm's  reach  before  we  heard  him. 
Dick  had  said  I  was  over-cool,  but  the  old  man's 
ghostlike  reappearance  gave  me  such  a  start  as 
made  me  prinkle  to  my  fingers'  ends. 

"How  will  it  be,  Eph  ?"  Dick  queried,  hotly  eager 
to  be  at  work.  "We  can  make  it  across?  Never 
say  we  can't  pass  that  bit  of  still  water,  man !" 

But  Ephraim  Yeates  did  say  so  in  set  terms. 

"I  reckon  ez  how  we've  got  to  cross,  but  not  jest 
here-away,  Cap'n  Dick.  She  ain't  making  any  fuss 
about  it,  but  she's  a-slipping  along  like  greased 
lightning,  deep  and  mighty  powerful.  I  ain't  say- 
ing we  mought  n't  swim  her  and  come  out  some- 
wheres  this  side  o'  Dan'l  Boone's  country ;  but  we'll 
make  it  a  heap  quicker  by  projec'ing  'round  till  we 
find  the  ford  where  them  varmints  made  out  to 
cross." 

"God !"  said  Dick,  deep  in  his  throat ;  "more  time 
to  be  killed!  By—" 

The  old  man  was  parting  the  bushes  to  have  a 
better  sight  of  the  encampment  opposite,  but  at 
Dick's  outbreak  he  fell  back  quickly  and  clapped  a 
hand  on  the  lips  of  cursing. 

"Hist!  Lookee  over  yonder,  will  ye!"  he  cut  in. 
And  then  in  a  whisper  meant  for  no  ear  but  mine : 
"The  Lord  be  marciful  to  that  little  gal,  Cap'n 
John ;  we've  fooled  our  chance  away — the  game's 
afoot,  and  we  ain't  in  it !" 

I  looked  and  saw  nothing  save  that  the  sen- 
try guard  had  risen  to  throw  a  handful  of  dry 
branches  on  the  'dying  fire.  But  on  the  instant  the 


LARGESS    OF   DESPAIR  243 

dry  wood  blazed  up,  and  in  the  wider  circle  of 
firelight  I  saw  what  the  keener  eyes  of  Ephraim 
Yeates  had  descried  the  sooner.  In  the  shadowy 
background  of  the  surrounding  forest  a  dozen  horse- 
men were  converging  in  orderly  array  upon  the  en- 
campment, and  at  the  blazing  up  of  the  dry 
branches  their  leader  gave  the  command  to  charge. 

What  sham  battle  there  was,  or  was  meant  to  be, 
was  over  in  the  briefest  space.  The  troopers  gal- 
loped in  with  shouts  and  aimless  pistolings,  raising 
a  clamor  that  was  instantly  doubled  by  the  yells  of 
the  Indians.  As  for  resistance,  the  charging  troop 
met  with  nothing  worse  than  the  yellings  and  a 
scattering  fusillade  in  air.  Then  the  ring  of  horse- 
men narrowed  in  to  closer  quarters  and  there 
was  some  flashing  of  bare  steel  in  the  firelight, 
at  which  the  Cherokee  kidnappers  melted  away  and 
vanished  as  if  by  magic. 

With  the  shouts  and  the  firing  Margery  and  her 
maid  had  burst  out  of  the  sleeping-lodge  to  find 
themselves  in  the  thick  of  the  sham  battle;  and  it 
was  but  womanlike  that  they  should  add  their 
shrieks  to  the  din,  being  as  well  terrified  as  they 
had  a  right  to  be.  But  now  the  leader  of  the  at- 
tacking troop  speedily  brought  order  with  a  word 
of  command ;  and  when  his  men  fell  back  to  post 
themselves  as  vedettes  among  the  trees,  the  officer 
dismounted  to  uncover  courteously  and  to  bow  low 
to  the  lady. 

"The  hoss-captain !"  muttered  Ephraim  Yeates, 
under  his  breath ;  but  we  did  not  need  his  word  for 


244       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

it.  'Twas  but  a  child's  pebble-toss  across  the  bar- 
rier stream,  and  we  could  both  see  and  hear. 

"I  give  you  joy  of  your  escape,  Mistress  Mar- 
gery," said  the  baronet,  mouthing  his  words  like  a 
player  who  had  long  since  conned  his  lines  and 
got  them  well  by  heart  and  letter-perfect.  "These 
slippery  savages  have  given  us  a  pretty  chase,  I  do 
assure  you.  But  you  are  trembling  yet,  calm  your- 
self, dear  lady ;  you  are  quite  safe  now." 

I  was  watching  her  intently  as  he  spoke.  'Twas 
now  hard  upon  two  months  since  I  had  seen  her 
last  in  that  fateful  upper  room  at  Appleby  Hun- 
dred, and  the  interval — or  mayhap  it  was  only  the 
hardships  and  distresses  of  the  captive  flight — had 
changed  her  woefully.  Yet  now,  as  when  we 
had  stood  together  at  the  bar  of  Colonel 
Tarleton's  court,  I  saw  her  pass  from  mood  to 
mood  in  the  turning  of  a  leaf,  her  natural  terror 
slipping  from  her  like  a  cast-off  garment,  and  a 
sweet  dignity  coming  to  clothe  her  in  a  queenlier 
robe,  making  her,  as  I  would  think,  more  beautiful 
than  ever. 

"I  thank  you,  Sir  Francis — for  myself  and  for 
poor  Jeanne,"  she  said.  "You  have  come  to 
take  us  back  to  my  father  ?" 

He  bowed  again  and  spread  his  hands  as  a  friend 
willing  but  helpless. 

"Upon  my  honor,  my  dear  lady,  nothing  would 
give  me  greater  pleasure.  But  what  can  I  say? 
We  are  upon  the  king's  business,  as  you  well  know, 
and  our  mission  will  not  brook  an  hour's  delay — 


LARGESS   OF  DESPAIR  245 

indeed,  we  are  here  only  by  the  good  chance  wliich 
led  your  captors  to  choose  our  route  for  theirs. 
I  have  no  alternative  but  to  take  you  and  your 
woman  with  us  to  the  west ;  but  I  do  assure  you — " 

She  stopped  him  with  an  impassioned  gesture  of 
dissent,  and  darting  a  despairing  glance  around 
that  minded  me  of  some  poor  hunted  thing  hope- 
lessly enmeshed  in  the  net  of  the  fowler,  she  clasped 
her  hands  and  wrung  them,  breaking  down  pite- 
ously  at  the  last,  and  begging  him  by  all  that  men 
hold  sacred  to  send  her  and  her  maid  back  to  her 
father,  if  only  with  a  single  soldier  for  a  guard. 

'Twas  then  we  had  to  drag  my  dear  lad  down 
and  hold  him  fast,  else  he  had  flung  himself  into 
the  torrent  in  some  mad  endeavor  to  spend  his  life 
for  her.  So  I  know  not  in  what  false  phrase  the 
baronet  refused  her,  but  when  I  looked  again  she 
was  no  longer  pleading  as  his  suppliant;  she  was 
standing  before  him  in  the  martyr  steadfastness  of 
a  true,  clean-hearted  woman  at  bay. 

"Then  you  will  not  by  so  much  undo  the  wrong 
you  have  done  me,  Captain  Falconnet  ?"  she  said. 

"A  wrong?  How  then;  do  you  call  it  a  wrong 
to  rescue  you  from  these  brutal  savages,  Mistress 
Margery  ?" 

She  took  a  step  nearer,  and  though  the  dry-stick 
blaze  was  dying  down  and  I  could  no  longer  see  her 
face  distinctly,  I  knew  well  how  the  scornful  eyes 
were  whipping  him. 

"Listen!"  she  said.  "When  you  set  Tallachama 
and  his  braves  upon  us  in  the  road  that  night,  you 


246       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY. 

were  not  cautious  enough,  Captain  Falconnet.  I 
saw  and  heard  you.  More  than  that,  Tallachama 
and  the  others  have  spoken  freely  of  your  plans  in 
their  own  tongue,  not  knowing  that  my  poor  Jeanne 
had  been  three  years  a  captive  among  the  Telli- 
quos." 

The  attack  was  so  sudden-sharp  and  so  com- 
pletely a  surprise  that  he  was  taken  off  his  guard, 
else  I  made  sure  he  would  not  at  such  a  time  have 
dropped  the  gentlemanly  mask  to  stand  forth  the 
confessed  ravisher. 

"So  ho?  Then  you  have  been  playing  fast  and 
loose  with  me  as  you  did  with  the  handsome  young 
planter  and  that  beggarly  captain  of  Austrians? 
'Twas  a  bold  game,  ma  petite,  but  you  have  lost  and 
I  have  won,  for  my  game  was  still  bolder  than  yours. 
What  I  need,  I  take,  Mistress  Madge,  be  it  the  body 
of  a  woman  or  the  life  of  a  man.  Savez-vous  un 
homme  desespere,  ma  cherief  I  am  that  man.  You 
pique  me,  and  I  need  the  dowry  you  will  bring. 
If  I  could  have  killed  your  lover  out  of  hand,  I 
might  have  been  content  to  leave  you  for  a  time. 
Since  I  could  not,  you  go  where  I  go;  and  when 
we  return  I  shall  do  you  the  honor  to  make  you 
Lady  Falconnet !" 

The  effect  of  this  fierce  tirade,  poured  out  in  a 
torrent  of  hot  words,  was  less  marked  upon  his 
helpless  captive  than  it  was  upon  her  four  would- 
be  defenders.  It  moved  us  variously,  each  after 
his  kind;  nevertheless,  I  think  the  same  thought 
lighted  instantly  upon  each  of  us.  Though  we 


LARGESS   OF   DESPAIR  247 

might  not  reach  and  rescue  her,  her  sharpest  peril 
would  be  blunted  upon  the  quieting  of  this  fiend- 
in-chief. 

So  Ephraim  Yeates  stretched  himself  face  down- 
ward in  the  damp  grass  and  brought  his  long  rifle 
to  bear,  while  the  Indian  sprang  up  and  poised  his 
hatchet  for  the  throw;  but  neither  lead  nor  steel 
was  loosed  because  the  light  was  poor,  and  a  hair's- 
breadth  swerving  of  the  aim  might  spare  the  man 
and  slay  the  woman.  As  for  the  two  of  us  who 
must  needs  come  within  stabbing  distance,  the  same 
thought  set  us  both  to  stripping  coats  and  foot-clogs 
for  a  plunge  into  the  barrier  torrent.  But  when  we 
would  have  broken  cover,  the  old  borderer  dropped 
his  weapon  and  gripped  us  with  a  hand  for  each. 

"No,  no;  none  o'  that!"  he  whispered,  hoarsely. 
"Ye'd  drown  like  rats,  and  we  can't  afford  no  sech 
foolish  sakerfices  on  the  altar  o'  Baal.  Hunker 
down  and  lie  clost ;  if  there's  any  dying  to  be  done, 
ye've  got  a  good  half  o'  the  night  ahead  of  ye,  and 
there's  all  o'  to-morrow  that  ain't  teched  yet." 

It  takes  a  pitiless  avalanche  of  words  to  spread 
these  interlinear  doings  out  for  you;  but  you  are 
to  conceive  that  the  pause  is  mine  and  not  the  ac- 
tion's. While  the  old  man  was  yet  pulling  us  down, 
my  fearless  little  lady  had  drawn  back  a  pace  and 
was  giving  the  villain  his  answer. 

"I  am  glad  I  know  you  now  for  wKat  you  are, 
Captain  Falconnet,"  she  said,  coldly.  And  then: 
"You  can  take  me  with  you,  if  you  choose,  having 
the  brute  strength  to  make  good  so  much  of  your 


24%       THE  MASTER  OFj  APPLEBY 

threat.  But  that  is  all.  You  can  not  take  for  your- 
self what  I  have  given  to  another." 

"Can  not,  you  say?"  He  clapped  his  hat  on 
smartly  and  whistled  for  his  horse-holder ;  and  when 
the  man  was  gone  to  fetch  the  mounts  for  the 
women,  he  finished  out  the  sentence.  "Listen  you, 
in  your  turn,  Mistress  Spitfire.  I  shall  take  what 
I  list,  and  before  you  see  your  father's  house  again, 
you'll  beg  me  on  your  knees,  as  other  women  have, 
to  marry  you  for  very  shame's  sake !" 

It  was  then  that  Uncanoola  did  the  skilfulest  bit 
of  jugglery  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  witness. 
Posturing  like  one  of  those  old  Grecian  discus- 
throwers,  he  sent  his  scalping-knife  handle  foremost 
to  glide  snake-like  through  the  grass  to  stop  at 
Margery's  feet.  Though  I  think  she  knew  not  how 
it  got  there,  she  saw  it,  and  the  courage  of  the  sight 
helped  her  to  say,  quickly : 

"When  it  comes  to  that,  sir,  I  shall  know  how  to 
keep  faith  with  honor." 

His  laugh  was  the  harshest  mockery  of  mirth. 
"You  will  keep  faith  with  me,  dear  lady;  do  you 
hear  ?  Otherwise — " 

He  turned  to  take  the  black  mare  from  his  man. 
At  this  my  brave  one  set  her  foot  upon  the  weapon 
in  the  grass. 

"I  have  no  faith  to  keep  with  you,  Captain  Fal- 
connet,"  she  said. 

He  struck  back  viciously.  "Then,  by  heaven, 
you'd  best  make  the  occasion.  It  has  happened,  ere 
this,  that  a  lady  as  dainty  as  you  are  has  become  a 


LARGESS   OF   DESPAIR  249 

plaything  for  an  Indian  camp.  It  lies  with  me  to 
save  you  from  that,  my  Mistress." 

She  stooped  to  gather  her  skirts  for  mounting, 
and  in  the  act  secured  and  hid  the  knife.  So  her 
answer  had  in  it  the  fine  steadfastness  of  one  who 
may  make  desperate  terms  with  death  for  honor's 
sake. 

"I  thank  you  for  the  warning,  Captain  Falconnet," 
she  said,  facing  him  bravely  to  the  last.  "When  the 
time  comes,  mayhap  the  dear  God  will  give  me  leave 
to  die  as  my  mother's  daughter  should." 

"Bah !"  said  he ;  and  with  that  he  whistled  for  his 
troopers ;  and  while  we  looked,  my  dear  lady  and  her 
tirewoman  were  helped  upon  their  horses,  and  at 
the  leader's  word  of  command  the  escort  formed 
upon  the  captives  as  a  center.  A  moment  later  the 
little  glade,  with  the  smoldering  embers  of  the 
lodge  fire  to  prick  out  its  limits  in  dusky  red, 
was  empty,  and  on  the  midnight  stillness  of  the 
forest  the  minishing  hoof  beats  of  the  horses  came 
fainter  and  fainter  till  the  distance  swallowed 
them. 

Then  it  was  that  my  poor  lad,  famine-mad  and 
frenzied,  rose  up  to  curse  me  bitterly. 

"Now  may  all  the  devils  in  hell  drag  you  down 
to  everlasting  torments,  John  Ireton,  for  your  cold- 
hearted  caution  that  made  us  lose  when  we  had 
good  hope  to  win!"  he  cried.  "One  little  hour  I 
begged  for,  and  that  hour  had  fought  her  battle  and 
set  her  free.  But  now — " 

He  broke  off  in  the  midst,  choking  with  what 


1250       THE  MASTER   OF  1APPLEBY 

miserable  despair  I  knew,  and  shared  as  well;  and 
throwing  himself  down  in  the  wet  grass,  he  would 
eke  out  the  bitter  words  with  such  ravings  and 
sobbings  as  bubble  up  in  sheer  abandonment  of  rage 
and  misery. 


XXIII 

HOW  WE   KEPT  THE  FEAST  OF  BITTER   HERBS 

You  may  be  sure  that  Richard  Jennifer's  bitter 
reproachings  came  home  to  me  in  sharpest  fashion, 
the  more  since  now  I  saw  how  we  had  lost  our 
chance  by  neglecting  the  commonest  precau- 
tions. Having  determined  to  attack,  the  merest 
novice  of  a  general  would  have  moved  his  forces 
to  the  nearest  point;  would  have  had  his  scouts 
search  out  the  ford  beforehand ;  and,  above  all, 
would  never  have  delayed  the  blow  beyond  the 
earliest  moment  of  the  enemy's  unwatchfulness. 

So  now,  when  all  was  lost,  I  fell  to  kneading  out 
this  sodden  dough  of  afterwit  with  Ephraim 
Yeates;  but  when  I  sought  to  carry  off  the  blame 
as  mine  by  right,  the  old  borderer  would  not  give 
me  leave. 

"Fair  and  easy,  Cap'n  John ;  fair  and  easy,"  he 
protested.  "Let's  give  that  old  sarpent,  which'  is 
the  devil  and  Satan,  his  dues.  Ez  I  allow,  there 
was  the  whole  enduring  passel  of  us  to  ricollect  all 
them  things.  To  be  sure,  we  had  our  warnings, 
mistrusting  all  along  that  this  here  dad-blame'  hoss- 
251 


•252       THE   MASTER  OF  rAPPLEBY 

captain  had  his  finger  in  tKe  pie.  But,  lawzee!  we 
had  ne'er  a  man  o'  God  'mongst  us  to  rise  up  and 
prophesy  what  was  a-going  to  happen  if  we  did  n't 
get  up  and  scratch  gravel  immejitly,  if  not  sooner; 
though  I  won't  deny  that  Cap'n  Dick  did  try  his 
hand  that-away." 

"True ;  and  I  would  now  we  Had  listened  to  him," 
said  I,  gloomily  enough.  "We  have  lost  our  chance, 
and  God  knows  if  we  shall  ever  have  another. 
Falconnet  must  have  half  a  hundred  men,  red  and 
white,  in  the  powder  train ;  and  by  this  time  he  has 
learned  from  the  Indian  who  reconnoitered  us  on 
the  mountain  that  we  are  within  striking  distance. 
With  the  enemy  forewarned,  as  he  is,  we  might  as 
well  try  to  cut  the  women  out  of  my  Lord  Corn- 
wallis's  headquarters." 

The  old  man  chuckled  his  dry  little  laugh,  though 
what  food  for  merriment  he  could  find  in  the  hope- 
less prospect  was  more  than  I  could  understand. 

"Ho!  ho!  Cap'n  John;  I  reckon  ez  how  ye're 
a-taking  that  word  from  yonder  down-hearted  boy 
of  our'n.  Wait  a  spell  till  ye're  ez  old  ez  I  be; 
then  you'll  never  say  die  till  ye're  plumb  dead." 

Now,  truly,  though  I  was  dismally  disheartened, 
I  could  reassure  him  on  the  point  of  perseverance. 
'Tis  an  Ireton  failing  to  lose  heart  and  hope  when 
tKe  skies  are  dark;  but  this  is  counterbalanced  in 
some  of  us  by  a  certain  quality  of  unreasoning  per- 
sistence which  will  go  on  running  long  after  the  race 
is  well  lost.  My  father  had  this  stubborn  virtue  to 


THE    FEAST   OF   BITTER   HERBS      253 

the  full;  and  so  had  that  old  Ironside  Ireton  from 
whom  we  are  descended. 

"That's  the  kind  o'  talk !"  was  the  old  man's  com- 
ment. "Now  we'll  set  to  work  in  sure-enough 
arnest.  Ez  I  said  a  spell  back,  my  stummick  is 
crying  cupboard  till  I  can't  make  out  to  hear  my 
brain  a-sizzling.  Maybe  you  took  notice  o'  me 
a-praying  down  yonder  that  the  good  Lord'd 
vouchsafe  to  give  us  scalps  and  provender.  For 
our  onfaithfulness  He's  seed  fit  to  withhold  the  one ; 
but  maybe  we'll  find  a  raven  'r  two,  or  a  widder's 
mite  'r  meal-bar'l,  somewheres  in  this  howling  wil- 
derness, yit." 

So  saying,  he  summoned  the  Catawba  with  a  low 
whistle,  and  when  Uncanoola  joined  us,  told  him 
to  stay  with  Jennifer  whilst  we  should  make  another 
effort  to  find  the  ford. 

"There's  nobody  like  an  Injun  for  a  nuss  when  a 
man's  chin-deep  into  trouble,"  quoth  this  wise  old 
woodsman,  when  we  were  feeling  our  way  cautious- 
ly along  the  margin  of  the  swift  little  river.  "If 
Cap'n  Dick  rips  and  tears  and  pulls  the  grass  up 
by  the  roots,  the  chief '11  only  say,  'Wah!'  If  he 
sits  up  and  cusses  till  he's  black  in  the  face,  the 
chief '11  say,  'Ugh!'  And  that's  just  about  all  a  man 
hankers  for  when  his  sore's  a-running  in  the  night 
season,  and  all  Thy  waters  have  gone  over  his  head. 
Selah!" 

Now  you  are  to  remember  the  sky  was  overcast 
and  the  night  was  pitchy  dark,  and  how  the  old 


254       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYS 

borderer  could  read  a  sign  of  any  sort  was  far  be- 
yond my  comprehension.  Yet  when  we  had  gone 
a  scant  half-mile  along  the  river  brink  he  stopped 
short,  sniffed  the  air  and  stooped  to  feel  and  grope 
on  the  ground  like  a  blind  man  seeking  for  some- 
thing he  had  lost. 

"Right  about  here-away  is  where  they  made  out 
to  cross,"  he  announced ;  "the  whole  enduring  pas- 
sel  of  'em,  ez  I  reckon — our  seven  varmints  and 
the  hoss-captain's  powder  train.  Give  me  the  heft 
o'  your  shoulder  till  we  take  the  water  and  projec' 
'round  a  spell  on  t'other  side." 

We  squared  ourselves,  wholly  by  the  sense  of 
touch,  with  the  river's  edge,  locked  arms  for  the 
better  bracing  against  the  swift  current,  and  so 
essayed  the  ford.  It  was  no  more  than  thigh  deep, 
and  though  the  water  lashed  and  foamed  over  the 
shoal  like  a  torrent  in  flood,  there  was  a  clean  bot- 
tom and  good  footing.  Once  safe  across,  we 
turned  our  faces  down-stream,  and  in  a  little  time 
came  to  the  deserted  glade  with  the  embers  of  the 
kidnappers'  fire  glowing  dully  in  the  midst. 

Here  a  sign  of  some  later  visitants  than  Falcon- 
net's  horsemen  set  us  warily  on  our  guard.  The 
tepee-lodge  of  dressed  skins,  which  had  been  left 
undisturbed  by  the  sham  rescuers,  had  vanished. 

"Umph!  The  redskins  have  been  back  to  make 
sure  o'  what  they  left  behind,"  said  Yeates,  in  a 
whisper.  "I  jing!  that's  jest  the  one  thing  I  was 
a-hoping  they'd  forget  to  do.  I  reckon  ez  how  that 


THE   FEAST   OF   BITTER   HERBS      255 

spiles  our  last  living  chance  o'  finding  anything  that 
mought  help  slack  off  on  the  belly-pinch." 

So  he  said,  but  for  this  once  his  wisdom  was  at 
fault  and  tricky  fortune  favored  us.  When  we  had 
found  the  covert  in  the  bushes  where  the  two  horses 
had  been  concealed  we  lighted  upon  a  precious  prize. 
'Twas  a  bag  of  parched  corn  in  the  grain;  some 
share  of  the  provision  of  the  captive  party  over- 
looked by  those  who  had  returned  to  gather  up  the 
leavings. 

With  this  treasure-trove  we  made  all  haste  to  re- 
join our  companions.  And  now  behold  what  a 
miracle  of  reanimation  may  be  wrought  by  a  few 
handfuls  of  bread  grain!  In  a  trice  the  Catawba 
had  found  a  water-worn  stone  to  serve  for  a  mortar, 
and  another  for  a  pestle.  These  and  the  bag  of 
corn  were  carried  back  to  a  sheltered  ravine  which 
we  had  crossed  on  our  late  advance ;  and  here  the 
Indian  fell  to  work  to  grind  the  corn  into  coarse 
meal,  whilst  Yeates  and  I  kindled  a  fire  to  heat  the 
baking-stones. 

In  these  preparations  for  the  breaking  of  our 
long  fast  even  Richard  bestirred  himself  to  help ; 
and  when  the  cakes  were  baked  and  eaten — with 
what  zestful  sharp-sauce  of  appetite  none  but  the 
famished  may  ever  know — we  were  all  in  better 
heart,  and  better  able  to  face  the  new  and  far  more 
desperate  plight  in  which  our  lack  of  common  fore- 
sight had  entangled  us. 

For  now,  since  we  knew  the  full  measure  of  the 


256       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY. 

peril  menacing  our  dear  lady,  there  was  need  for 
swift  determination  and  a  blow  as  swift  and  sure; 
a  coup  de  main  which  should  atone  in  one  shrewd 
push  for  the  sleeveless  failure  of  the  night.  So 
we  would  grip  hands  around,  even  to  the  stolid 
Indian,  and  swear  a  solemn  oath  to  cut  the  women 
out  or  else  to  leave  our  bones  to  whiten  in  the  forest 
wilderness. 

You'll  laugh  at  all  these  vowings  and  handstrik- 
ings,  I  dare  say,  and  protest  there  was  a  deal  of 
such  fustian  heroics  in  your  doddering  old  chron- 
icler's day. 

Mayhap  there  was.  But,  my  dears,  I  would  you 
might  remember  as  you  laugh  that  we  of  that  sim- 
ple-hearted elder  time  lived  by  some  half-century 
nearer  to  that  age  of  chivalry  you  dote  on — 
in  the  story-books.  Also,  I  would  you  might  mingle 
with  your  merriment  a  little  of  the  saving  grace  of 
charity;  letting  it  hint  that,  perchance,  these  you 
call  "heroics"  were  but  the  free,  untrammeled  folk- 
speech  of  that  sincerer  natural  heart  which  you  have 
learned  to  silence  and  suppress.  For  I  dare  affirm 
that  now,  as  then  and  always,  there  will  be  some 
spark  of  the  Promethean  fire  in  every  heart  of  man 
or  maid,  else  this  would  indeed  be  a  sorry  world  to 
live  in. 

So,  as  I  say,  we  four  struck  hands  anew  on  the 
desperate  venture ;  and,  after  carefully  burying  the 
fire  to  the  end  that  it  might  not  betray  us  while  we 
slept,  we  burrowed  in  the  nearest  leaf  bed  to  snatch 


THE    FEAST   OF   BITTER   HERBS      257 

an  hour  or  two  of  rest  before  the  toils  and  hazards 
of  the  chase  should  begin  afresh. 

In  the  thick  darkness  following  hard  upon  the 
douting  of  the  fire,  I  saw  not  who  my  nearest  bed- 
fellow might  be.  But  ere  I  slept  a  hand  was  laid 
on  my  shoulder,  and  a  voice  that  I  knew  well,  said : 
"Are  you  waking  yet,  Jack  ?" 

I  said  I  was ;  and  at  that  my  poor  lad  would 
blurt  out  all  his  sorrow  and  shame  for  the  mad  fit 
of  despair  that  had  set  him  on  to  rail  and  curse  me. 

"You  will  say  with  good  reason  that  I  am  but  a 
sorry  jockey  for  a  friend — to  fly  out  at  you  like 
a  madman  as  I  did,"  he  added,  by  way  of  fitting 
epilogue;  and  to  this  I  gave  him  the  answer  he 
wished,  bidding  him  never  let  a  thought  of  it  spoil 
him  of  the  rest  he  needed. 

"The  debt  of  obligation  and  forgiveness  is  all 
upon  the  other  side,  as  you  will  some  day  know, 
Dick,  my  lad,"  said  I,  hovering,  as  a  coward  always 
will,  upon  the  innuendo-edge  of  the  confession  he 
will  never  make. 

He  mistook  the  pointing  of  this  protest,  as  he 
was  bound  to. 

"Never  say  that,  Jack.  Twould  be  a  dog-in-the- 
manger  trick  in  me  to  blame  you  for  loving  her. 
And  since  you  speak  of  debts,  I  do  protest  I  owe 
you  somewhat,  too.  With  so  fair  a  chance  to  cut 
a  clean  swath  in  that  fair-weather  month  at  Appleby 
Hundred,  another  man  would  have  left  me  scant 
gleanings  in  the  field,  I'll  be  bound ;  whereas — " 


258       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBYi 

"Damn  you !"  I  broke  in  roughly,  "will  you  never 
have  done  and  go  to  sleep  ?"  And  so,  taking  surly 
harshness  for  a  mask  when  my  heart  was  nigh  burst- 
ing with  shame  and  grief,  I  turned  my  back  and  cut 
him  off. 


HOW  WE  FOUND  THE  SUNKEN  VALLEY 

Looking  back  upon  the  hazards  and  chance-tak- 
ings of  our  adventure  in  the  wilderness,  I  recall  no 
more  promising  risk  than  that  we  ran  by  sleeping 
unsentried  within  rifle-shot,  for  aught  we  knew,  of 
the  camp  of  the  enemy. 

But  touching  this,  'tis  only  on  the  mimic  stage  of 
the  romances  that  the  players  rise  to  the  plane  of 
superhuman  sagacity  and  angel-wit,  never  faltering 
in  their  lines  nor  betraying  by  slip  or  tongue-trip 
their  kinship  with  common  humankind.  Being  mere 
mortals  we  were  not  so  endowed;  we  were 
but  four  outwearied  men,  well  spent  in  the  long 
chase,  with  never  a  leg  among  us  fit  to  pace  a 
sentry  beat  nor  a  decent  wakeful  eye  to  keep  it 
company.  So,  as  I  have  said,  we  took  the  risk  and 
slept ;  would  have  slept  as  soundly,  I  dare  say,  had 
the  risk  been  twice  as  great. 

We  were  astir  at  the  earliest  graying  of  the  dawn, 
Richard  and  I,  and  were  the  laggards  of  the  com- 
pany at  that,  since  the  old  hunter  was  already  out 
and  away,  and  the  Indian  had  kindled  a  fire  and 
259 


260       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

was  grinding  more  of  the  parched  corn  for  the 
morning  meal.  Dick  sat  up  in  his  leaf  litter,  yawn- 
ing like  a  sleepy  giant. 

"Lord,  Jack,"  said  he;  "if  ever  we  win  out  of  this 
coil  with  a  full  day  to  spare,  I  mean  to  sleep  the 
clock  hands  twice  around  at  a  stretch,  I  promise 
you.  'Twas  but  a  catch,  this  cat-nap;  no  more 
than  enough  to  leave  a  bad  taste  in  the  mouth." 

"Aye;  but  the  taste  may  be  washed  out,"  said  I. 
"I  am  for  a  dip  in  the  river ;  what  say  you  ?" 

He  took  me  at  the  word,  and  we  had  an  eye-open- 
ing plunge  in  the  spring-cold  flood  of  the  swift 
little  river  at  the  mouth  of  our  ravine.  'Twas  most 
marvelous  refreshing;  and  with  appetites  sharp  set 
and  whetted  by  the  stripping  and  plunging  we  were 
back  at  the  fire  in  time  to  give  good  day  to  Ephraim 
Yeates,  at  that  moment  returned  with  the  hindquar- 
ters of  a  fine  yearling  buck,  fresh-killed,  across  his 
shoulders. 

Seeing  the  deer's  meat,  we  would  think  the  old 
hunter's  thrift  of  the  dawn  sufficiently  accounted 
for ;  but  when  the  cuts  were  a-broil,  we  were  made 
to  know  that  the  buck  was  merely  a  lucky  incident  in 
the  early  morning  scouting. 

Taking  time  by  the  forelock,  the  old  borderer  had 
swept  a  circle  of  reconnaissance  around  our  halting 
place,  "to  get  the  p'ints  of  the  compass,"  as  he  would 
say.  His  first  discovery  was  that  the  ford  we  had 
found  in  the  darkness  served  as  the  river  crossing 
of  an  ancient  and  well-used  Indian  trace.  Along 
this  trace  from  the  eastward  the  powder  train  had 


WE  FOUND  THE  SUNKEN  VALLEY    261 

come,  no  longer  ago  than  mid-afternoon  of  yes- 
terday; and  arguing  from  this  that  the  night  camp 
of  the  band  would  be  but  a  short  march  to  the  west- 
ward, Yeates  had  pushed  on  to  feel  out  the  enemy's 
position. 

For  a  mile  or  more  beyond  the  ford  he  had  trailed 
the  convoy  easily.  The  Indian  trace  or  path,  well- 
trainpled  by  the  numerous  horses  of  the  cavalcade, 
followed  the  up-stream  windings  of  the  swift  river 
straight  into  the  eye  of  the  western  mountains.  But 
in  the  eye  itself,  a  rocky  defile  where  the  slopes  on 
each  hand  became  frowning  battlements  to  narrow 
valley  and  stream,  the  one  to  a  darkling  gorge,  the 
other  to  a  thundering  torrent,  the  trail  was  lost  as 
completely  as  if  the  powder  convoy  had  vanished 
into  thin  air. 

Here  was  a  fresh  complication,  and  one  that  called 
for  instant  action.  We  had  counted  upon  a  battle 
royal  in  any  attempt  to  rescue  the  women ;  but  that 
Falconnet,  impeded  as  he  was  by  the  slow  move- 
ments of  the  powder  cargo,  could  slip  away,  was  a 
contingency  for  which  we  were  wholly  unprepared. 

So,  as  you  would  guess,  the  hunter  breakfast  was 
hurriedly  despatched ;  and  by  the  time  the  sun  was 
shoulder  high  over  the  eastern  hills  we  had  broken 
camp  and  crossed  the  river,  and  were  pressing  for- 
ward to  the  gorge  of  disappearance. 

On  each  hand  the  mountains  rose  precipitous, 
the  one  on  the  left  swelling  unbroken  to  a  bald  and 
rounded  summit,  forest  covered  save  for  its  ton- 
sured head  high  in  air,  while  that  on  the  right  was 


262       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBV 

steeper  and  lower,  with  a  line  of  cliffs  at  the  top. 
As  we  fared  on,  the  valley  narrowed  to  a  mere 
chasm,  with  the  river  thundering  along  the  base  of 
the  tonsured  mountain,  and  the  Indian  path  hug- 
ging the  cliff  on  the  right. 

In  the  gloomiest  depths  of  this  defile  we  came 
upon  the  hunter's  stumbling-block.  A  tributary 
stream,  issuing  from  a  low  cavern  in  the  right-hand 
cliff,  crossed  the  Indian  path  and  the  chasm  at  a 
bound  and  plunged  noisily  into  the  flood  of  the  larg- 
er river.  On  the  hither  side  of  this  barrier  stream 
the  trail  of  the  powder  convoy  led  plainly  down 
into  the  water;  and,  so  far  as  one  might  see,  that 
was  the  end  of  it. 

As  we  made  sure,  we  left  no  stone  unturned  in 
the  effort  to  solve  the  mystery.  No  horse,  ridden 
or  led,  could  have  lived  to  cross  the  pouring  tor- 
rent of  the  main  river,  or  to  wade  up  or  down  its 
bed ;  and  if  the  cavalcade  had  turned  up  the  barrier 
stream  its  progress  must  have  ended  abruptly 
against  the  sheer  wall  of  the  cliff  at  the  entrance 
to  the  low-arched  cavern  whence  the  tributary  came 
into  being.  But  if  Falconnet  and  his  following  had 
ridden  neither  up  nor  down  the  bed  of  the  barrier 
stream,  it  seemed  equally  certain  that  no  horse  of 
the  troop  had  crossed  it.  The  Indian  trace,  which 
held  straight  on  up  the  gorge  and  presently  came 
out  above  into  a  high  upland  valley,  was  unmarked 
by  any  hoof  print,  new  or  old. 

"Well,  now ;  I'll  be  daddled  if  this  here  ain't  about 
the  beatin'est  thing  I  ever  chugged  up  ag'inst,"  was 


263 

the  old  borderer's  comment,  when  we  had  flogged 
our  wits  to  small  purpose  in  the  search  for  some 
clue  to  the  mystery.  "What's  your  mind  about 
it,  hey,  Chief?" 

Uncanoola  shook  his  head.  "Heap  plenty  slick. 
No  go  up-stream,  no  go  down,  no  cross  over,  no  go 
back.  Mebbe  go  up  like  smoke — w'at  ?" 

The  hunter  shook  his  head  and  would  by  no  means 
admit  the  alternative.  "Ez  I  allow,  that  would  ax 
for  a  merricle ;  and  I  reckon  ez  how  when  the  good 
Lord  sends  a  chariot  o'  fire  after  sech  a  clanjamfrey 
as  this'n  o'  the  hoss-captain's,  it'll  be  mighty  dad- 
blame'  apt  to  go  down  'stead  of  up." 

We  were  standing  on  the  brink  of  the  barrier 
stream  no  more  than  a  fisherman's  cast  from  the 
black  rock-mouth  that  spewed  it  up  from  its  under- 
ground maw.  While  the  hunter  was  speaking,  the 
Catawba  had  lapsed  into  statue-like  listlessness,  his 
gaze  fixed  upon  the  eddying  flood  which  held  the 
secret  of  the  vanished  cavalcade.  Suddenly  he  came 
alive  with  a  bound  and  made  a  quick  dash  into  the 
water.  What  he  retrieved  was  only  a  small  piece 
of  wood,  charred  at  one  end.  But  Ephraim  Yeates 
caught  at  it  eagerly. 

"Now  the  Lord  be  praised  for  all  His  marcies !" 
he  exclaimed.  "It  do  take  an  Injun  to  come  a-run- 
hing  whenst  ever'body  else  is  plumb  beat  out! 
Ne'er  another  one  of  us  had  an  eye  sharp  enough 
to  ketch  that  bit  o'  sign  a-floating  past.  What  say, 
Cap'n  John?" 

I  shook  my  head,  seeing  no  special  significance  in 


•264       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

the  token;  and  Dick  asked:  "What  will  it  be, 
Ephraim,  now  that  it  is  caught  ?" 

The  old  man  looked  his  pity  for  our  dullard  wit, 
and  then  set  a  moiety  of  it  in  words. 

"Well,  well,  now ;  I'm  fair  ashamed  of  ye !  What 
all  d'ye  reckon  blackened  the  end  o'  this  bit  o'  pine- 
branch?" 

"Why,  fire,"  says  Richard,  beginning,  as  I  did,  to 
see  some  glimmering  of  light. 

"In  course.  And  it  come  from  yonder,  did  n't 
it?"  pointing  to  the  cavern  under  the  cliff. 
"More  than  that,  'twas  cut  wi'  a  hatchet — this 
fresh  end  of  it — no  longer  ago  than  last  night, 
at  the  f urdest ;  the  pitch  that  the  fire  fried  out'n  it 
is  all  soft  and  gummy,  yit.  Gentlemen  all :  whenst 
we  find  where  this  here  creek  conies  out  into  day- 
light again  we're  a-going  to  find  the  hoss-captain 
and  the  whole  enduring  passel  o'  redskins  and  red- 
coats, immejitly,  if  not  sooner !" 

What  comment  this  startling  announcement  would 
have  evoked  I  know  not,  for  at  the  moment  of  its 
utterance  the  Catawba  went  flat  upon  the  ground, 
making  most  urgent  signs  for  us  to  do  likewise. 
What  he  had  seen  we  all  saw  a  flitting  instant  later ; 
the  painted  face  of  a  Cherokee  warrior  as  a  setting 
for  a  pair  of  fierce  basilisk  eyes  peering  out  of 
the  low-arched  cavern  whence  the  stream  issued, 
an  apparition  looking  for  all  the  world  like  a  dis- 
membered head  floating  on  the  surface  of  the  out- 
gushing  flood. 

'Twas  the  old  borderer  who  took  the  initiative  in 


WE  FOUND  THE  SUNKEN  VALLEY    265 

the  swift  retreat,  and  we  followed  his  lead  like  well- 
drilled  soldiers.  A  crook  in  the  stream,  and  the 
thickset  underwood,  screened  us  for  the  moment 
from  the  basilisk  eyes ;  and  in  a  twinkling  we  had 
rolled  one  after  another  into  the  mimic  torrent  and 
were  quickly  swept  down  to  its  mouth. 

Here  death  lay  in  wait  for  us  in  the  mad  plung- 
ings  of  the  main  river ;  but  we  made  shift  to  catch 
at  the  overhanging  branches  of  the  willows  in  pass- 
ing, to  draw  ourselves  out,  to  scramble  up  the  gorge 
and  to  gain  a  great  boulder  on  the  mountain  side 
whence  we  could  look  down  upon  the  scene  of  our 
late  surprisal. 

By  this  we  saw,  from  the  wings,  as  it  were,  th'e 
setting  of  the  stage  for  a  tragedy  which  might  have 
been  ours.  One  by  one  a  score  of  heads  with  painted 
faces  floated  silently  out  of  the  spewing  rock-mouth. 
One  by  one  the  glistening,  bronze-red  bodies  apper- 
taining thereto  emerged  from  the  water,  each  to  take 
its  place  in  an  ambuscade  enclosing  the  stream- 
crossing  of  the  Indian  path  in  a  pocket-like  line  of 
crouching  figures,  with  the  mouth  of  the  pocket  open 
toward  the  lower  valley. 

Ephraim  Yeates  chuckled  under  his  breath  and 
smote  softly  upon  his  thigh. 

"They  tell  ez  how  the  good  Lord  has  a  mighty 
tender  care  for  chillern  and  simples,"  he  whispered. 
"Whenst  we  was  a-coming  a-rampaging  up  the  trace 
a  hour  'r  two  ago,  I  saw  the  moccasin  track  o'  that 
there  spy,  and  was  too  dad-blame'  biggity  in  my  own 
consate  to  ax  what  it  mought  mean." 


266       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"What  spy?"  says  Dick,  matching  the  hunter's 
low  whisper. 

"Why,  the  varmint  that  tracked  me  back  from 
here  'twixt  dawn  and  daybreaK,  to  be  sure.  He 
waited  till  we  broke  camp  and  then  took  out  up  here 
ahead  of  us  to  tell  his  chief  'twas  e'ena'most  time  to 
set  the  trap  for  three  white  simples  and  a  red  one. 
Friends,  I'm  a-telling  ye  plain  that  the  sperrit's 
a-moving  me  mighty  powerful  to  get  down  on  my 
hunkers  and — " 

"For  heaven's  sake,  don't  do  it  here  and  now!" 
gasped  Dick.  "Let's  get  out  of  this  spider's-web 
while  we  may." 

The  old  hunter  postponed  his  prayerful  motion, 
most  reluctantly,  as  it  would  seem,  and  led  the  way 
in  a  silent  withdrawal  from  the  dangerous  neighbor- 
hood of  the  ambushment.  When  we  had  pushed  on 
somewhat  higher  up  the  gorge  and  stood  on  the 
confines  of  the  upland  valley  for  which  it  served  as 
the  approach,  there  was  a  halt  for  a  council  of 
war. 

Since  it  was  now  evident  that  the  powder  convoy 
was  encamped  in  some  hidden  gorge  or  valley  to 
which  the  cavern  of  the  underground  stream  was 
one  of  the  approaches,  'twas  plain  that  we  must 
climb  to  some  height  whence  we  could  command  a 
wider  view. 

We  were  all  agreed  that  the  cavern  entrance  could 
not  have  been  used  by  the  entire  company:  this 
though  the  conclusion  left  the  vanishing  trail  an 
unsolved  riddle.  For  if  the  women  could  have  been 


WE  FOUND  THE  SUNKEN  VALLEY    267 

dragged  through  the  low-springing  arcH  of  the 
waterway,  we  knew  the  horses  could  not — to  say 
nothing  of  the  certain  destruction  of  the  powder 
cargo  in  such  a  passage. 

So  we  addressed  ourselves  to  the  ascent  of  the 
northern  mountain;  though  Richard  and  I  would 
first  beg  a  little  space  in  which  to  drain  the  water 
from  our  boots,  and  to  wring  some  pounds'  weight  of 
it  from  our  clothes.  That  done,  we  fell  in  line  once 
more;  and  being  so  fortunate  as  to  hit  upon  a 
ravine  which  led  to  the  cliff-crowned  summit,  the 
climb  was  shorn  of  half  its  toil  and  difficulty.  Never- 
theless, by  the  sun's  height  it  was  well  on  in  the 
forenoon  before  we  came  out,  perspiring  like  sap- 
pers in  a  steam  bath,  upon  the  mountain  top. 

As  Yeates  had  guessed,  this  northern  mountain 
proved  to  be  a  lofty  table-land.  So  far  as  could 
be  seen,  the  summit  was  an  undulating  plain,  less 
densely  forested  than  the  valley,  but  with  a  thick 
sprinkling  of  pines  to  make  the  still,  hot  air  heavy 
with  their  resinous  fragrance.  As  it  chanced,  our 
ravine  of  ascent  headed  well  back  from  the  cliff 
edge,  so  we  must  needs  fetch  a  compass  through  the 
pine  groves  before  we  could  win  out  to  any  com- 
manding point  of  view. 

The  old  borderer  took  his  bearings  by  the  sun 
and  laid  the  course  quartering  to  bring  us  out  as 
near  as  might  be  on  the  heights  above  the  gorge. 
But  when  we  had  gone  a  little  way,  a  thinning  of  the 
wood  ahead  warned  us  that  we  were  approaching 
some  nearer  break  in  the  table-land. 


268       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBYs 

Five  minutes  later  we  four  stood  on  the  brink 
of  a  precipice,  looking  abroad  upon  one  of  nature's 
most  singular  caprices.  Conceive  if  you  can  a  seg- 
ment of  the  table-land,  in  shape  like  a  broad-bilged 
man  o'  war,  sunk  to  a  depth  of,  mayhap,  six  or 
seven  hundred  feet  below  the  general  level  of  the 
plateau.  Give  this  ship-shaped  chasm  a  longer  di- 
mension of  two  miles  or  more,  and  a  breadth  of 
somewhat  less  than  half  its  length ;  bound  it  with  a 
wall-like  line  of  cliffs  falling  sheer  to  steep,  forested 
slopes  below;  prick  out  a  silver  ribbon  of  a 
stream  winding  through  grassy  savannas  and  well- 
set  groves  of  lordly  trees  from  end  to  end  of  the 
sunken  valley;  and  you  will  have  some  picture  of 
the  scene  we  looked  upon. 

But  what  concerned  us  most  was  a  sight  to  make 
us  crouch  quickly  lest  sharp  eyes  below  should  descry 
us  on  the  sky-line  of  the  cliff.  Pitched  on  one  of  the 
grassy  savannas  by  the  stream,  so  fairly  be- 
neath us  that  the  smallest  cannon  planted  on  our 
cliff  could  have  dropped  a  shot  into  it,  was  the  camp 
of  the  powder  train. 


XXV 

HOW  UNCANOOLA  TRAPPED  THE  GREAT  BEAR 

'Twas  Richard  Jennifer  who  first  broke  the  noon- 
tide silence  of  the  mountain  top,  voicing  the  query 
which  was  thrusting  sharp  at  all  of  us. 

"Now  how  in  the  name  of  all  the  fiends  did  they 
make  shift  to  burrow  from  yonder  bag-bottom  into 
this?"  he  would  say. 

"Ez  I  allow,  that's  jest  what  the  good  Lord 
fetched  us  here  for — to  find  out,"  was  Yeates's 
rejoinder.  "Do  you  and  the  chief,  Cap'n  John, 
circumambylate  this  here  pitfall  yon  way,  whilst 
Cap'n  Dick  and  I  go  t'other  way  'round.  By  time 
we've  made  the  circuit  and  j'ined  company  again,  I 
reckon  we'll  know  for  sartain  whether  'r  no  they 
climm'  the  mounting  to  get  in." 

So  when  we  had  breathed  us  a  little  the  circuiting 
was  begun,  Ephraim  Yeates  and  Jennifer  going 
toward  the  lower  end  of  the  sink,  and  the  Catawba 
and  I  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Since  we  must  examine  closely  every  rift  and 
crevice  in  the  boundary  cliff,  it  was  a  most  tedious 
undertaking;  and  I  do  remember  how  my  great 
269 


270       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

trooper  boots,  sun-drying  on  my  feet,  made  every 
step  a  wincing  agony.  They  say  an  army  goes  upon 
its  belly,  but  an  old  campaigner  will  tell  you  that 
you  can  march  a  soldier  till  he  be  too  thin  to  cast 
a  shadow  if  only  he  hath  ease  of  his  footgear. 

Taking  it  all  in  all,  it  proved  a  slow  business,  this 
looping  of  the  sunken  valley;  and  when  we  had 
worked  around  to  the  eastern  cliff  and  to  a  meeting 
point  with  the  old  hunter  and  Richard  Jennifer,  the 
sun  was  level  in  our  faces  and  the  day  was  waning. 

Coming  together  again,  we  made  haste  to  com- 
pare notes.  There  was  little  enough  to  add  to  the 
common  fund  of  information,  and  the  mystery  of 
the  lost  trail  remained  a  mystery.  True,  we,  the 
Indian  and  I,  had  found  a  ravine  at  the  extreme 
upper  end  of  the  valley  through  which,  we  thought, 
a  sure-footed  horse  might  be  led  at  a  pinch,  up  or 
down;  but  this  ravine  had  not  been  used  by  the 
powder  train,  and  apart  from  it  there  was  no  prac- 
ticable horse  path  leading  down  from  the  plateau. 

As  for  the  hunter  and  Richard,  they  had  made 
a  discovery  which  might  stand  for  what  it  was 
worth.  At  its  lower  extremity  the  sunken  valley 
was  separated  from  the  great  gorge  without  only 
by  a  ridge  which  was  no  more  than  a  huge  dam; 
and  this  diking  ridge  was  evidently  tunneled  by  the 
stream,  since  the  latter  had  no  visible  outlet. 

Inasmuch  as  the  most  favorable  point  of  espial 
upon  the  camp  below  was  the  cliff  whence  we  had 
first  looked  down  into  the  sink,  we  harked  back 
thither,  passing  around  the  lower  end  of  the  valley 


TRAPPING   THE    GREAT   BEAR  _  271 

and  along  the  barrier  ridge.  Plan  we  had  none  as 
yet,  for  the  preliminary  to  any  attempt  at  a  rescue 
must  be  some  better  knowledge  of  the  way  into  and 
out  of  Falconnet's  cunningly  chosen  stronghold. 
True,  we  might  win  in  and  out  again  by  the  ravine 
which  the  chief  and  I  had  explored  at  the  upper 
end,  and  Dick  was  for  trying  this  when  the  night 
should  give  us  the  curtain  of  darkness  for  a  shield. 
But  the  old  hunter  would  hold  this  forlorn  hope  in 
reserve  as  a  last  resort. 

"Sort  it  out  for  yourself,  Cap'n  Dick,"  He  ar- 
gued. "Whatsomedever  we  make  out  to  do— four 
on  us  ag'inst  that  there  whole  enduring  army  o' 
their'n — has  got  to  be  done  on  the  keen  jump,  with 
a  toler'ble  plain  hoss-road  for  the  skimper-scamper 
race  when  it  is  done.  For,  looking  it  up  and  down 
and  side  to  side,  we've  got  to  have  hosses — some  o' 
their  hosses,  at  that.  I  jing!  if  we  could  jest  make 
out  somehow  'r  other  to  lay  our  claws  on  the. 
beasteses  aforehand — " 

We  had  reached  the  cliff  and  were  once  more 
peering  down  at  the  enemy's  camp.  Though  for  the 
cliff-shadowed  valley  it  was  long  past  sunset  and 
all  the  depths  were  blue  and  purple  in  the  changing 
half-lights  of  the  hour,  the  shadow  veil  was  but 
a  gauze  of  color,  softening  the  details  without  ob- 
scuring them.  So  we  could  mark  well  the  metes 
and  bounds  of  the  camp  and  prick  in  all  the  items. 

The  camp  field  was  the  largest  of  the  savannas 
or  natural  clearings.  On  the  margin  of  the  stream 
the  Indian  lodges  were  pitched  in  a  semicircle  to 


272       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYj 

face  the  water.  Farther  back,  Falconnet's  troop 
was  hutted  in  rough-and-ready  shelters  made  of  pine 
boughs — these  disposed  to  stand  between  the  camp 
of  the  Cherokees  and  the  tepee-lodge  of  the  captive 
women  which  stood  among  the  trees  in  that  edge 
of  the  forest  hemming  the  slope  which  buttressed 
our  cliff  of  observation. 

At  first  we  sought  in  vain  for  the  storing-place 
of  the  powder.  It  was  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  Cataw- 
ba  that  finally  descried  it.  A  rude  housing  of  pine 
boughs,  like  the  huts  of  the  troopers,  had  been  built 
at  the  base  of  a  great  boulder  on  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  stream ;  and  here  was  the  lading  of  the  pow- 
der train. 

From  what  could  be  seen  'twas  clear  that  the 
camp  was  no  mere  bivouac  for  the  day ;  indeed,  the 
Englishmen  were  still  working  upon  their  pine- 
bough  shelters,  building  themselves  in  as  if  for  a 
stay  indefinite. 

"  'Tis  a  rest  camp,"  quoth  Dick ;  "though  why 
they  should  break  the  march  here  is  more  than  I 
can  guess." 

"No,"  said  Ephraim  Yeates.  "  Tain't  jest  right- 
ly a  rest  camp,  ez  I  take  it.  Ez  I  was  a-saying  last 
night,  this  here  is  Tuckasege  country,  and  we  ain't 
no  furder  than  a  day's  running  from  the  Cowee 
Towns.  Now  the  Tuckaseges  and  the  over-mount- 
ing Cherokees  ain't  always  on  the  best  o'  tarms,  and 
I  was  a  wondering  if  the  hoss-captain  had  n't  sot 
down  here  to  wait  whilst  he  could  send  a  peace- 


TRAPPING   THE   GREAT   BEAR     273 

offer'  o'  powder  and  lead  on  to  the  Cowee  chiefs  to 
sort  o'  smooth  the  way." 

"No  send  him  yet;  going  to  send,"  was  Unca- 
noola's  amendment.  "Look-see,  Chelakee  braves 
make  haste  for  load  horses  down  yonder  now !" 

Again  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  Catawba  had  come 
in  play.  At  the  foot  of  the  great  boulder  some 
half  dozen  of  the  Cherokees  were  busy  with  the 
powder  cargo,  lashing  pack-loads  of  it  upon  two 
horses.  One  of  the  group,  who  appeared  to  be 
directing  the  labor  of  the  others,  stood  apart,  hold- 
ing the  bridle  reins  of  three  other  horses  caparisoned 
as  for  a  journey.  When  the  loading  was  accom- 
plished to  the  satisfaction  of  the  horse-holding  chief- 
tain, he  and  two  others  mounted,  took  the  burdened 
animals  in  tow,  and  the  small  cavalcade  filed  off 
down  the  stream  toward  the  apparent  cul  de  sac 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  valley. 

Ephraim  Yeates  was  up  in  a  twinkling,  dragging 
us  back  from  the  cliff  edge. 

"Up  with  ye!"  he  cried.  "Now's  our  chance  to 
kill  two  pa'tridges  with  one  stone !  If  we  can  make 
out  to  get  down  into  t'other  valley  in  time  to  see 
how  them  varmints  come  out,  we'll  know  the  way 
in.  More'n  that,  we  can  ambush  'em  and  so  make 
sartain  sure  o'  five  o'  the  six  hosses  we're  a-going 
to  need,  come  night.  But  we've  got  to  leg  for  it 
like  Ahimaaz  the  son  of  Zadok !" 

Thus  the  old  borderer ;  and  being  only  too  eager 
to  come  to  handgrips  with  the  enemy,  we  were  up 


1274       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

and  running  faster  than  ever  Joab's  messenger  ran, 
long  before  the  old  man  finished  with  his  Scriptural 
simile. 

Not  to  take  the  risk  of  delay  on  any  unexplored 
short  cut,  we  made  straight  for  the  ravine  of  our 
ascent,  found  it  as  by  unerring  instinct,  and  were 
presently  racing  down  to  the  Indian  trace  in  the 
little  upland  valley  above  the  gorge. 

For  all  the  helter-skelter  haste  I  found  time  to 
remember  that  the  gorge  as  we  had  last  seen  it  had 
been  well  besprinkled  with  armed  Cherokees  lying  in 
wait  for  us.  If  they  were  still  there  we  should  be 
like  to  have  a  hot  welcome ;  and  some  reminder  of 
this  I  gasped  out  to  Yeates  in  mid  flight. 

"Ne'm  mind  that ;  if  we  run  up  ag'inst  'em  any- 
where, 'twon't  be  there-away.  They've  took  the 
hint  and  quit;  scattered  out  to  hunt  us  long  ago," 
was  his  answer,  jerked  out  between  bounds.  And 
after  that  I  loosed  the  Ferara  in  its  sheath  and  saved 
my  breath  as  I  might  for  the  killing  business  of  the 
moment. 

'Twas  a  sharp  disappointment  that,  for  all  the 
haste  of  our  mad  scramble  down  the  mountain,  we 
were  too  late  to  surprise  the  secret  of  the  enemy's 
stronghold.  The  Catawba  was  leading  when  we 
dashed  down  into  the  valley,  and  one  glance  sent 
him  flying  back  to  stop  us  short  with  a  dumb  show 
purporting  that  the  quarry  was  already  out  of  the 
defile  and  coming  up  the  Indian  path. 

Richard  swore  grievously,  but  the  old  backwoods- 
man took  the  checkmate  placidly  and  began  to  set 


TRAPPING   THE   GREAT  BEAR     275 

the  pieces  for  the  second  game  in  which  the  horses 
were  the  stake,  hiding-  his  useless  rifle  in  a  hollow 
tree, — his  powder  had  been  soaked  and  spoiled  in 
the  early  morning  plunge  for  life, — and  drawing  his 
hunting-knife  to  feel  its  edge  and  point. 

"Ez  I  allow,  that  fetches  us  to  the  hoss-lifting," 
he  said,  in  his  slow  drawl.  Then  he  laid  his  com- 
mands upon  us.  "Ord'ly,  and  in  sojer-fashion, 
now ;  no  whooping  and  yelling.  If  the  hoss-cap- 
tain's  got  scouts  out  a-s'arching  for  us,  one  good 
screech  from  these  here  varmints  we're  a-going  to 
put  out'n  their  mis'ry  'u'd  fix  our  flints  for  kingdom 
come.  I  ain't  none  afeard  o'  your  nerve," — this  to 
Richard  and  me — "leastwise,  not  when  it  conies  to 
fair  and  square  sojer-fighting.  But  this  here  onfall 
has  got  to  be  like  the  smiting  o'  the  'Malekites — 
root  and  branch ;  and  if  ye're  tempted  to  be  anywise 
marciful,  jest  ricollect  that  for  the  sake  o'  them 
wimmen-folks  we've  got  to  have  these  hosses!" 

You  are  not  to  suppose  that  he  was  holding  us 
inactive  while  he  thus  exhorted  us.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  was  posting  us  skilfully  beside  the  trace 
like  the  shrewd  old  Indian  fighter  that  he  was,  with 
a  rare  and  practised  eye  to  the  maximum  of  cover 
with  the  minimum  of  thicket  tangle  to  impede  the 
rush  or  to  shorten  the  sword-swing. 

But  when  all  was  done  we  were  at  this  disadvan- 
tage; that  since  the  enemy  was  close  at  hand  we 
dared  not  cross  the  path  to  give  our  trap  a  jaw  on 
either  side.  To  offset  this,  the  Catawba  dropped 
out  of  line  and  disappeared;  and  when  the  Chero- 


276       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

kees  were  no  more  than  a  hundred  yards  away,  Un- 
canoola  came  in  sight  a  like  distance  in  the  opposite 
direction,  running  easily  down  the  path  to  meet  the 
up-coming  riders. 

Richard  let  slip  an  admiration-oath  under  his 
breath.  "There's  a  fine  bit  of  strategy  for  you !"  he 
whispered.  "That  wily  Jack-at-a-pinch  of  ours  will 
befool  them  into  believing  that  he  is  a  runner  from 
the  Cowee  Towns.  'Tis  our  cue  to  lie  close ;  he  will 
Halt  them  just  here,  and  there  will  be  roving  eyes 
in  the  heads  of  the  two  who  have  not  to  talk." 

We  had  not  long  to  wait.  Our  cunning  ally 
timed  his  halting  of  the  emissaries  to  a  nicety,  and 
when  the  three  Cherokees  drew  rein  they  were  with- 
in easy  blade's  reach.  The  powwow,  lengthened 
by  Uncanoola  till  we  were  near  bursting  with  im- 
patience, was  spun  out  wordily,  and  presently  we 
saw  the  pointing  of  it.  The  Catawba  was  affecting 
to  doubt  the  protests  of  the  emissaries  and  would 
have  them  dismount  and  prove  thejr  good  faith  by 
smoking  the  peace-pipe  with  him. 

I  give  you  fair  warning,  my  dears,  that  you  may 
turn  the  page  here  and  skip  what  follows  if  you  are 
fain  to  be  tender-hearted  on  the  score  of  these  sav- 
age enemies  of  ours.  It  was  in  the  very  summer 
solstice  of  the  year  of  violence ;  a  time  when  he  who 
took  the  sword  was  like  to  perish  with  the  sword ; 
and  we  thought  of  little  save  that  Margery  and  her 
handmaiden  were  in  deadliest  peril,  and  that  these 
Indians  had  five  horses  which  we  must  have. 

And  as  for  my  own  part  in  the  fray,  when  I  rec- 


TRAPPING  THE   GREAT   BEAR     277 

ognized  in  the  five-feathered  chieftain  of  the  three 
that  copper-hued  imp  of  Satan  who  had  been  the 
merciless  master  of  ceremonies  at  the  torturing  of 
my  poor  black  Tomas,  the  decent  meed  of  mercy 
which  even  a  seasoned  soldier  may  cherish  died 
within  me,  and  I  made  sure  the  steel  would  find  its 
mark. 

So,  when  Uncanoola  drew  forth  his  tobacco  pipe 
and  made  the  three  doomed  ones  sit  with  him  in  the 
path  to  smoke  the  peace-whiff  all  around,  we  picked 
out  each  his  man  and  smote  to  slay.  The  scythe-like 
sweep  of  Jennifer's  mighty  claymore  left  the  five- 
feathered  chieftain  the  shorter  by  a  head  in  the  same 
pulse-beat  that  the  Ferara  scanted  a  second  of  the 
breath  to  yell  with ;  though  now  I  recall  it,  the  gurg- 
ling death-cry  of  the  poor  wretch  with  the  steel  in 
his  throat  was  more  terrible  to  hear  than  any  war- 
whoop.  As  for  the  old  borderer,  he  was  more  de- 
liberate. Being  fair  behind  and  within  arm's  reach 
of  his  man,  he  seized  him  by  the  scalp-lock,  bent  the 
head  backward  across  his  knee — but,  faugh!  these 
are  the  merest  butcher  details,  and  I  would  spare 
you — and  myself,  as  well. 

While  yet  this  most  merciless  deed  was  a-doing, 
the  Catawba  bounded  to  his  feet  and  made  sure  of 
the  horses  which  were  rearing  and  snorting  with 
affright.  That  done,  he  must  needs  gloat,  Indian- 
wise,  over  his  fallen  adversary,  turning  the  headless 
body  with  his  foot  and  gibing  at  it. 

"Wah!  Call  hisself  the  Great  Bear,  hey?  Heap 
lie;  heap  no  bear;  heap  nothing,  now.  Papoose 


278       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY. 

bear  no  let  hisself  be  trap'  that  way.  No  smoke 
peace-pipe — " 

But  now  Ephraim  Yeates,  standing  ear  a-cock  and 
motionless,  like  some  grim  old  statue  done  in  leather, 
cut  him  short  with  a  sudden,  "Hist,  will  ye !"  and  a 
twinkling  instant  later  we  had  other  work  to  do. 

"Onto  the  hosses  with  this  here  Injun-meat,  ez 
quick  ez  the  loving  Lord'll  let  ye!"  was  the  sharp 
command.  "There's  a  whole  clanjamfrey  o'  the 
varmints  a-coming  down  the  trace,  and  I  reckon  ez 
how  we'd  better  scratch  gravel  immejitly,  if  not 
sooner !" 


XXVI 

WE  TAKE  THE  CHARRED  STICK  FOR  A  GUIDE 

Luckily  for  us  the  new  danger  was  approaching 
from  the  westward.  So,  by  dint  of  the  maddest 
hurryings  we  got  the  bodies  of  the  three  Cherokees 
hoist  upon  the  horses,  and  were  able  to  efface  in 
part  the  signs  of  the  late  encounter  before  the  band 
of  riders  coming  down  the  Indian  path  was  upon 
us.  But  there  was  no  time  to  make  an  orderly 
retreat.  At  most  we  could  only  withdraw  a  little 
way  into  the  wood,  halting  when  we  were  well  in 
'cover,  and  hastily  stripping  coats  and  waistcoats  to 
muffle  the  heads  of  the  horses. 

So  you  are  to  conceive  us  waiting  with'  nerves 
upstrung,  ready  for  fight  or  flight  as  the  event 
should  decide,  stifling  in  such  pent-up  suspense  as 
any  or  all  of  us  would  gladly  have  exchanged  for 
the  fiercest  battle.  Happily,  the  breath-scanting  in- 
terval was  short.  From  behind  our  thicket 
screen  we  presently  saw  a  file  of  Indian  horsemen 
riding  at  a  leisurely  footpace  down  the  path. 
Ephraim  Yeates  quickly  named  these  new-comers 
for  us. 

279 


280       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY, 

"  Tis  about  ez  I  allowed — some  o'  the  Tuckaseges 
a-scouting  down  to  hold  a  powwow  with  the  hoss- 
captain.  Now,  then ;  if  them  sharp-nosed  ponies  o' 
their'n  don't  happen  to  sniff  the  blood — " 

The  hope  was  dashed  on  the  instant  by  the  sud- 
den snorting  and  shying  of  two  or  three  of  the 
horses  in  passing,  and  we  laid  hold  of  our  weapons, 
keying  ourselves  to  the  fighting  pitch.  But,  curi- 
ously enough,  the  riders  made  no  move  to.  pry  into 
the  cause.  So  far  from  it,  they  flogged  the  shying 
ponies  into  line  and  rode  on  stolidly ;  and  thus  in  a 
little  time  that  danger  was  overpast  and  the  evening 
silence  of  the  mighty  forest  was  ours  to  keep  or 
break  as  we  chose. 

The  old  frontiersman  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Well,  friends,  I  reckon  ez  how  we  mought  ez 
well  thank  the  good  Lord  for  all  His  marcies  afore 
we  go  any  furder,"  he  would  say;  and  he  doffed 
his  cap  and  did  it  forthwith. 

It  was  as  grim  a  picture  as  any  limner  of  the 
weird  could  wish  to  look  upon.  The  twilight  shad- 
ows were  empurpling  the  mountains  and  gathering 
in  dusky  pools  here  and  there  where  the  trees  stood 
thickest  in  the  valley.  The  hush  of  nature's  mystic 
hour  was  abroad,  and  even  the  swiftly  flowing  river, 
rushing  sullenly  along  its  rocky  bed  no  more  than 
a  stone's  cast  beyond  the  Indian  path,  seemed  to 
pretermit  its  low  thunderings.  There  was  never  a 
breath  of  air  astir  in  all  the  wood,  and  the  leaves  of 
the  silver  poplar  that  will  twinkle  and  ripple  in  the 
lightest  zephyr  hung  stark  and  motionless. 


A  CHARRED  STICK  FOR  A  GUIDE      281 

Barring  the  old  borderer,  who  had  gone  upon  his 
knees,  we  stood  as  we  were;  the  Catawba  holding 
the  pack  horses,  and  Jennifer  and  I  the  three  that 
bore  the  ghastly  burdens  of  mortality.  The  bodies 
of  the  slain  had  been  flung  across  the  saddles,  to 
balance  as  they  might;  and  to  the  pommel  of  that 
saddle  which  bore  the  trunk  of  the  five-feathered 
chieftain,  Uncanoola  had  knotted  the  grisly  head 
by  its  scalp-lock  to  dangle  and  roll  about  with  every 
restless  movement  of  the  horse — a  hideous  death- 
mask  that  seemed  to  mop  and  mow  and  stare  fear- 
somely  at  us  with  its  wide-open  glassy  eyes. 

With  this  background  fit  for  the  staging  of  a 
scene  in  Dante  Alighieri's  tragic  comedy,  the  loom- 
ing mountains,  the  upper  air  graying  on  to  dusk,  and 
the  solemn  forest  aisles  full  of  lurking  shadows, 
you  are  to  picture  the  old  frontiersman,  bareheaded 
and  on  his  knees,  pouring  forth  his  soul  in  all  the 
sonorous  phrase  of  Holy  Writ,  now  in  thanksgiving, 
and  now  in  most  terrible  beseechings  that  all  the 
.vials  of  Heaven's  wrath  might  be  poured  out  upon 
bur  enemies. 

His  face,  commonly  a  leather  mask  to  hide  the 
man  behind  it,  was  now  ablaze  with  the  fire  of  zeal- 
otry ;  and,  truly,  in  these  his  spasm-fits  of  supplica- 
tion he  stood  for  all  that  is  most  awe-inspiring  and 
unnerving,  asking  but  a  little  stretch  of  the  imagina- 
tion to  figure  him  as  one  of  those  old  iron-hard 
prophets  of  denunciation  come  back  to  earth  to  be 
the  herald  of  the  wrath  of  God. 

'Twas  close  upon  actual  nightfall  when  the  old 


282       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

man  rose  from  his  knees  and,  with  the  rising,  put 
off  the  beadsman  and  put  on  the  shrewd  old  Indian 
fighter.  Followed  some  hurried  counselings  as  to 
how  we  should  proceed,  and  in  these  the  hunter  set 
the  pace  for  us  as  his  age  and  vast  experience  in 
woodcraft  gave  him  leave. 

His  plan  had  all  the  merit  of  simplicity.  Now 
that  we  had  the  horses,  Richard's  notion  of  an  ap- 
proach from  the  head  of  the  sunken  valley  became 
at  once  the  most  hopeful  of  any.  So  Ephraim 
Yeates  proposed  that  we  betake  ourselves  to  the 
mountain  top  and  to  the  head  of  that  ravine  which 
the  Catawba  and  I  had  discovered.  Here  we  should 
leave  the  horses  well  hidden  and  secured,  make  our 
way  down  the  ravine,  and,  with  the  stream  for  a 
guide,  follow  the  sunken  valley  to  the  camp  at  its 
lower  end.  Once  on  the  ground  without  having 
given  the  alarm,  we  might  hope  to  free  the  captives 
under  cover  of  the  darkness ;  and  our  retreat  up  the 
valley  would  be  far  less  hazardous  than  any  open 
flight  by  way  of  the  unexplored  road  the  powder 
train  had  used. 

So  said  the  old  backwoodsman ;  but  neither  Dick 
nor  I  would  agree  to  this  in  toto.  Dick  argued  that 
while  we  were  killing  time  in  the  roundabout  ad- 
vance we  should  be  leaving  Margery  wholly  at  the 
mercy  of  the  baronet,  and  that  every  hour  of  delay 
was  full  of  hideous  menace  to  her.  Hence  he  pro- 
posed that  three  of  us  should  carry  out  the  hunter's 
plan,  leaving  the  fourth  to  take  the  hint  given  by  the 
charred  stick  and  the  swimming  ambush  crew,  and 


A  CHARRED  STICK  FOR  A  GUIDE      283 

so  penetrating  to  the  valley  by  the  stream  cavern, 
be  at  hand  to  strike  a  blow  for  our  dear  lady's 
honor  in  case  of  need. 

"  'Tis  a  thing  to  be  done,  and  I  am  with  you, 
Dick,"  said  I.  This  before  Ephraim  Yeates  could 
object.  "Should  there  be  need  for  any,  two  blades 
will  be  better  than  one.  If  it  come  to  blows  and  we 
are  killed  or  taken,  Yeates  and  the  chief  must  make 
the  shift  to  do  without  our  help." 

As  you  would  guess,  the  old  hunter  demurred  to 
this  halving  of  our  slender  force,  but  we  over-per- 
suaded him.  If  all  went  well,  we  were  to  rendez- 
vous on  the  scene  of  action  to  carry  out  the  plan  of 
rescue.  But  if  our  adventure  should  prove  disas- 
trous, Yeates  and  Uncanoola  were  to  bide  their  time, 
striking  in  when  and  how  they  might. 

Touching  this  contingency,  I  drew  the  old  man 
aside  for  a  word  in  private. 

"If  aught  befall  us,  Ephraim, — if  we  should  be 
nabbed  as  we  are  like  to  be, — you  are  not  to  let  any 
hope  of  helping  us  lessen  by  a  feather's  weight  th'e 
rescue  chance  of  the  women.  You'll  promise  me 
this?" 

"Sartain  sure;  ye  can  rest  easy  on  that,  Cap'n 
John.  But  don't  ye  go  for  to  let  that  rampaging 
boy  of  our'n  upsot  the  fat  in  the  fire  with  any  o' 
his  foolishness.  He's  love-sick,  he  is;  and  there 
ain't  nothing  in  this  world  so  ridic'lous  foolish  ez  a 
love-sick  boy — less'n  'tis  a  love-sick  gal." 

I  promised  on  my  part  and  so  we  went  our  sep- 
arate ways  in  the  gathering  darkness;  though  not 


284       (THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEB^i 

until  the  lashings  of  the  packs  had  been  cut  and 
the  powder  and  lead,  save  such  spoil  of  both  as 
Ephraim  Yeates  and  Uncanoola  would  reserve,  had 
been  spilled  into  the  river.  As  for  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  Indians,  the  old  hunter  said  he  would  let  them 
ride  till  he  should  come  to  some  convenient  chasm 
for  a  sepulcher;  but  I  mistrusted  that  he  and  the 
Catawba  would  scalp  and  leave  them  once  we  were 
safely  out  of  sight. 

At  the  parting  we  took  the  river's  edge  for  it, 
Richard  and  I,  keeping  well  under  the  bank  and 
working  our  way  cautiously  down  the  gorge  until 
we  were  stopped  by  the  pouring  cross-torrent  of  the 
underground  tributary.  Here  we  turned  short  to 
the  left  along  the  margin  of  the  barrier  stream,  and 
tracing  its  course  across  the  gorge  came  presently 
to  the  northern  cliff  at  the  lip  of  the  spewing  cavern 
mouth. 

By  now  the  night  was  fully  come  and  in  the 
wooded  defile  we  could  place  ourselves  only  by  the 
sense  of  touch. 

"Are  you  ready,  Dick  ?"  said  I. 

"As  ready  as  a  man  with  a  shaking  ague  can  be," 
he  gritted  out.  "This  dog's  work  we  have  been 
doing  of  late  has  brought  my  old  curse  upon  me 
and  I  am  like  to  rattle  my  teeth  loose." 

"Let  me  go  alone  then.  Another  cold  plunge  may 
be  the  death  of  you." 

"No,"  said  he,  stubbornly.  "Wait  but  a  minute 
and  the  fever  will  be  on  me ;  then  I  shall  be  fighting- 
fit  for  anything  that  comes." 


A  CHARRED  STICK  FOR-  A  GUIDE      285 

So  we  waited,  and  I  could  hear  his  teeth  clicking 
like  castanets.  Having  had  a  tertian  fever  more 
than  once  in  the  Turkish  campaigning,  I  had  a  fel- 
low-feeling for  the  poor  lad,  knowing  well  how  the 
thought  of  a  plunge  into  cold  water  would  make  him 
shrink. 

In  a  little  time  he  felt  for  my  hand  and  grasped  it. 

"I'm  warm  enough  now,  in  all  conscience,"  he 
said ;  and  with  that  we  slipped  into  the  stream. 

'Twas  a  disappointment  of  the  grateful  sort  to 
find  the  water  no  more  than  mid-thigh  deep.  The 
current  was  swift  and  strong,  but  with  the  pebbly 
bottom  to  give  good  footing  'twas  possible  to  stem 
it  slowly.  Laying  hold  of  each  other  for  the  better 
breasting  of  the  flood  we  felt  our  way  warily  to  the 
middle  of  the  pool ;  felt  for  the  low-sprung  cavern 
arch,  and  for  that  scanty  lifting  of  it  where  we 
hoped  to  find  head  room  between  stone  above  and 
stream  below. 

We  found  the  highest  part  of  the  arch  after  some 
blind  groping,  and  making  lowly  obeisance  to  the 
gods  of  the  underworld  began  a  snail-like  progress 
into  the  gurgling  throat  of  the  spewing  rock- 
monster. 

I  here  confess  to  you,  my  dears,  that,  had  I  loved 
my  sweet  lady  less,  no  earthly  power  could  have 
driven  me  into  that  dismal  stifling  place.  All  my 
life  long  I  have  had  a  most  unspeakable  horror  of 
low-roofed  caverns  and  squeezing  passages  that 
cramp  a  man  for  breath  and  for  the  room  to  draw  it 
in;  and  when  the  suffocating  madness  came  upon 


286       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

me,  as  it  did  when  we  were  well  jammed  in  this 
cursed  horror-hole,  I  was  right  glad  to  have  my  love 
for  Margery  to  make  an  outward-seeming  man  of 
me ;  glad,  too,  that  my  dear  lad  was  close  behind  to 
shame  me  into  going  on. 

Yet,  after  all,  the  passage  through  the  throat  of 
the  rock  dragon  was  vastly  more  terrifying  than 
difficult.  Once  well  within  the  closely  drawn  upper 
lip  we  could  brace  our  backs  against  the  roof  and  so 
have  a  purchase  for  the  foothold.  Better  still,  when 
we  had  passed  a  pike's-length  beyond  the  lip  the 
breathing  space  above  the  water  grew  wider  and 
higher  till  at  length  we  could  stand  erect  and  come 
abreast  to  lock  arms  and  push  on  side  by  side. 

From  that  the  stream  broadened  and  grew  shal- 
lower with  every  step,  and  presently  we  could  hear 
it  on  ahead  babbling  over  the  stones  like  any  peace- 
ful woodland  brook.  Then  suddenly  the  dank  and 
noisome  air  of  the  cavern  gave  place  to  the  pine- 
scented  breath  of  the  forest ;  and,  looking  straight 
up,  we  could  see  the  twinkling  stars  shining  down 
upon  us  from  a  narrow  breadth  of  sky. 


XXVII 

HOW  A  KING'S  TROOPER  BECAME  A  WASTREL 

Dick  pressed  closer  to  me,  and  I  could  feel  him 
drinking  in  deep  drafts  of  the  grateful  outer  air. 

"What  new  wonder  is  this?"  he  would  ask,  with 
something  akin  to  awe  in  his  voice;  but  we  must 
needs  grope  this  way  and  that  to  feel  out  the  answer 
with  our  finger-tips. 

When  the  answer  was  found,  the  mystery  of  the 
lost  trail  was  solved  most  simply.  As  we  made  out, 
we  were  in  a  deep  crevice  cut  crosswise  by  the 
stream  which,  issuing  from  a  yawning  cavern  in 
the  farther  wall,  was  quickly  engulfed  again  by 
that  lower  archway  we  had  just  traversed.  In  some 
upheaval  of  the  earthquake  age  a  huge  slice  of  the 
mountain's  face  had  split  off  and  settled  away  from 
the  parent  cliff  to  leave  a  deep  cleft  open  to  the  sky. 
One  end  of  this  crevice  chasm — that  toward  the  up- 
land valley — was  choked  and  filled  by  the  debris  of 
later  landslides ;  but  the  lower  end  was  open. 

Through  this  lower  end,  as  we  made  no  doubt, 
the  powder  train  had  come,  turning  from  the  Indian 
path  in  the  gorge  up  the  bed  of  the  barrier  stream, 
287 


288       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

turning  again  at  tKe  outer  cavern  mouth  to  squeeze 
in  single  file  between  the  thickly  matted  under- 
growth and  the  cliff's  face,  and  so  to  pass  around 
the  split-off  mass  and  come  into  the  crevice  rift. 

How  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  old  hunter,  and  those 
of  the  Catawba  as  well,  had  missed  the  finding  of 
this  squeezing  place  where  the  cavalcade  had  left 
the  stream-bed,  we  could  never  guess;  but  on  the 
chance  that  we  might  yet  need  to  know  all  the 
crooks  and  turnings  of  this  outlet,  we  felt  our  way 
quite  around  the  masking  cliff  and  down  to  the 
stream's  edge  in  the  gorge. 

That  done  we  were  ready  for  a  farther  advance, 
and  clambering  back  into  the  crevice  we  once  more 
took  the  stream  for  our  guide  and  were  presently 
deep  in  the  natural  tunnel  piercing  the  mountain 
proper.  This  extension  of  the  subterranean  water- 
way proved  to  be  a  noble  cavern,  wide  and  high 
enough  to  pass  a  loaded  wain,  as  we  determined  by 
tossing  pebbles  against  the  arching  roof.  None  the 
less,  'twas  full  of  crooks  and  windings ;  and  in  the 
sharpest  elbow  of  them  all,  where  we  were  like  to 
lose  our  way  by  blundering  into  one  of  the  many 
branching  side  passages,  Richard  stopped  me  with 
a  hand  thrust  back. 

"Softly !"  he  cautioned ;  "here  are  their  vedettes !" 

Just  beyond  the  crooking  elbow  the  dull  red  glow 
from  a  tiny  fire  gone  to  coals  showed  us  two  Indian 
sentries  set  to  keep  the  pass.  Dick  drew  his  clay- 
more, but  he  was  chilling  again  and  the  hand  that 
grasped  the  great  blade  was  shaking  as  with  a 


A  TROOPER  BECAME  A  WASTREL     289 

palsy.  Yet  he  would  mutter,  as  the  teeth-chattering 
suffered  him: 

"What  say  you,  Jack?  Shall  we  rush  them? 
There's  naught  else  for  it."  And  then,  with  a  grit- 
ting oath :  "Oh,  damn  this  cursed  chilling !" 

I  whispered  back  that  we  would  wait  till  he  was 
better  fit.  He  was  loath  to  admit  the  necessity,  but, 
as  it  chanced,  the  momentary  delay  saved  our  lives 
in  that  strait.  While  we  paused,  hugging  the  shad- 
ows in  the  crooking  elbow,  the  gloomy  depths  be- 
yond the  sentries  were  suddenly  starred  with  flaring 
flambeaux  lighting  the  way  for  a  hasting  rabble  of 
savages ;  and  had  we  been  entangled  in  the  struggle 
with  the  two  sentinels  we  should  have  been  taken 
red-handed. 

As  it  was,  we  had  to  make  the  quickest  play  to 
save  ourselves.  In  the  same  breath  we  both  remem- 
bered the  narrow  side  passage  just  behind  in  which 
we  were  nigh  to  losing  our  way,  and  into  this  we 
plunged,  reckless  of  possible  pitfalls.  We  were  no 
more  than  safely  out  of  the  main  corridor  when  the 
runners,  some  score  of  them,  as  we  guessed,  trooped 
past  our  covert  in  full  cry,  leaving  us  half  smoth- 
ered in  the  smoky  trail  of  their  pitch-pine  flambeaux. 

"Now  what  a-devil  has  set  this  hornet's  nest  of 
theirs  abuzz  so  suddenly?"  I  whispered,  when  the 
smoke-choke  gave  us  liberty  to  speak  without  cough- 
ing to  betray  ourselves. 

"Our  pony-riding  Tuckaseges,  doubtless,"  was 
Richard's  ready  answer.  "By  all  the  chances,  they 
should  have  met  the  Great  Bear  and  his  peace-offer- 


290       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

ing  out  yonder  on  the  trace — which  same  they  did 
not.  So  when  they  bring  this  tale  to  camp  there  is 
the  devil  to  pay  and  no  pitch  hot.  God  help  our 
tough  old  Ephraim  and  the  Catawba  if  these  blood- 
hounds win  out  in  time  to  overtake  them !" 

"Aye,"  said  I ;  and  then  we  crept  out  of  our 
dodge-hole  and  made  ready  to  go  about  our  business 
with  the  sentries. 

But  when  we  came  to  peer  again  around  the 
crooking  elbow  it  would  seem  that  the  hurrying 
search  party  had  fought  our  battle  for  us.  The 
watch-fire  was  there  to  light  a  little  circle  in  the 
gloom,  but  the  watchers  were  gone.  We  chanced  a 
guess  that  they  had  joined  the  hue  and  cry,  and  so 
we  pressed  forward,  past  the  handful  of  embers 
and  into  the  pit-black  depths  beyond. 

Twenty  paces  farther  on  it  came  to  playing  blind 
man's  buff  with  the  rocky  walls  again,  and  meas- 
ured by  the  trippings  and  stumblings  'twas  a  long 
Sabbath  day's  journey  to  that  final  turn  in  the  great 
earth-burrow  whence  we  could  see  the  glimmering 
of  the  enemy's  camp-fires  in  the  sunken  valley. 

"Now  God  be  praised !"  quoth  Richard  most  fer- 
vently. "Another  hour  in  this  cursed  kennel  with 
the  fever  on  me  and  I  should  be  a  yammering  loose- 
wit."  And  I,  too,  was  glad  enough  to  see  the  stars 
again,  and  to  be  at  large  beneath  them. 

Emerging  from  the  subterranean  way,  we  held  to 
the  camp  side  of  the  stream,  making  an  ample  cir- 
cuit to  the  left  to  come  down  upon  the  enemy's 
position  from  the  wooded  slope  behind  the  encamp- 


A  TROOPER  BECAME  A  WASTREL      291 

ment.  We  met  no  let  or  hindrance  in  this  approach. 
Secure  in  their  stronghold,  the  Indians  had  no 
patrols  out ;  and  as  for  the  Englishmen,  every  moth- 
er's son  of  them,  it  seemed,  was  basking  in  the  light 
of  a  great  fire  built  before  the  pine-bough  shelters. 

Favored  by  a  dense  thicketing  of  laurel  we  made 
a  near  hand  reconnaissance  of  the  little  wigwam 
which  held  our  dear  lady.  As  I  have  said,  this  was 
pitched  in  the  thinning  of  the  forest  which  covered 
the  steep  slope  behind  the  encampment,  and  so  was 
the  farthest  removed  from  the  stream,  and  from  the 
Indian  lodges  disposed  in  a  half-moon  at  the  water's 
edge.  Here  all  was  quiet  as  the  grave,  and  the 
clamor  of  the  Indian  camp  came  softened  by  the 
distance  to  a  low  monotonous  humming  like  the 
buzzing  of  a  bee-hive.  The  flap  of  the  tepee-lodge 
was  closely  drawn,  and  the  bit  of  fire  before  it  had 
burned  out  to  a  heap  of  white-ashed  embers. 

"They  are  safe  as  yet,  thank  God !"  says  Richard, 
heaving  a  most  palpable  sigh  of  relief.  Then,  with 
the  fever  in  his  veins  to  whip  his  natural  ardor  into 
hasty  action :  "  'Twill  be  hours  before  Eph  and  the 
Catawba  can  come  in  by  your  upper  ravine,  Jack, 
and  we  shall  never  have  a  better  chance  than  this. 
Hold  you  quiet  here,  whilst  I— ?' 

But  I  laid  fast  hold  of  him  and  would  not  hear  to 
any  such  a  foolhardy  marring  of  Ephraim  Yeates's 
plan. 

"Heavens,  boy !  are  you  gone  clean  mad  ?"  I  would 
say.  "  'Twill  be  risky  enough  with  midnight  in  our 
favor;  with  the  camp  well  asleep,  and  that  great 


292       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

fire  burned  down  to  give  us  something  less  lhan 
broad  daylight  to  work  in !" 

He  turned  upon  me  like  a  pettish  child.  "Oh,  to 
the  devil  with  your  stumbling-blocks,  John  Ireton ! 
You  are  always  for  holding  back.  By  heaven !  I'll 
swear  you  have  no  drop  of  lover's  blood  in  your 
veins !"  ; 

"So  you  have  said  before.  But  let  that  pass,  we 
must  bide  by  our  promise  to  Yeates,  which  was  not 
to  interfere  unless  Margery  stood  in  present  peril. 
Moreover,  we  should  learn  the  lay  of  the  land  better 
while  we  have  the  firelight  to  help.  When  the  time 
for  action  comes  we  must  be  able  to  make  the  play 
with  our  eyes  shut,  if  need  be.  Come." 

'Twas  like  pulling  sound  teeth  to  get  him  away, 
but  he  yielded  at  length  and  we  crept  on  to  have 
some  better  sight  of  the  troop  camp.  We  had  it; 
had  also  a  glimpse  of  the  baronet-captain  playing 
loo  with  his  lieutenant  and  another.  The  tableau  at 
the  fire  gave  us  better  courage.  The  men  had  laid 
their  arms  aside  and  were  sprawling  at  their  ease ; 
and  while  the  arch  scoundrel  was  in  the  gaming 
mood,  Margery  had  less  to  fear  from  him. 

I  said  as  much  to  Dick,  and  for  answer  he  pointed 
to  the  flask  of  usquebaugh  which  was  at  that  mo- 
ment making  the  round  of  the  loo  players. 

"I  know  Frank  Falconnet  better  than  you  do, 
Jack,  for  I  have  known  him  later.  He  is  all  kinds 
of  a  villain  sober,  but  he  is  a  fiend  incarnate  with 
the  liquor  in  him.  'Tis  lucky  we  are  here.  If  he  do 


A  TROOPER  BECAME  A  WASTREL      293 

but  drink  deep  enough,  Margery  is  like  to  have 
need—" 

"Hist!"  said  I;  "some  of  these  lounging  rascals 
may  not  be  so  drowsy  as  they  look." 

He  nodded,  and  we  backed  away  to  make  another 
circuit  which  fetched  us  out  on  the  up-valley  side 
of  the  encampment.  Here  we  could  look  down  into 
a  smaller  glade  or  bottom  meadow  on  the  stream 
where  the  horses  of  the  band  were  cropping  the 
lush  grass.  It  was  the  sight  of  these,  and  of  Mar- 
gery's black  mare  among  them,  that  set  me  thinking 
of  a  pickeering  venture  to  the  full  as  harebrained  as 
that  from  which  I  had  but  now  dissuaded  Richard 
Jennifer. 

"We  shall  need  another  mount,  and  Mistress  Mar- 
gery's saddle,"  I  said.  "Lie  you  close  here  whilst  I 
play  the  horse-thief  on  these  reavers." 

But  my  dear  lad  was  rash  only  for  himself.  "Now 
who  is  daft?"  he  retorted.  "The  Catawba  himself 
could  never  run  that  gantlet  and  come  through 
alive." 

"Mayhap,"  I  admitted.    "But  yet—" 

He  cut  me  off  in  the  midst,  winding  an  arm  about 
my  head  by  way  of  an  extinguisher.  One  of  the 
redcoat  troopers  lounging  before  the  great  fire  had 
risen  and  was  coming  straight  for  our  hiding  place. 

I  saw  not  what  to  do ;  should  have  done  nothing, 
I  dare  say,  till  the  man  had  walked  fair  upon  us. 
But  Richard  was  quicker  witted. 

"Give  me  your  sword !"  he  muttered ;  "mine  will 


294       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY, 

be  too  long  to  shorten  upon,"  and  when  the  English- 
man's next  stride  would  have  kicked  us  out  of  hid- 
ing, Dick  rose  up  before  him  like  the  devil  in  a  play, 
gripped  him  by  the  collar  and  laid  his  sword's  point 
at  his  throat. 

"Follow  me,  step  for  step,  or  you  are  a  dead 
man !"  he  commanded ;  and  so,  pacing  backward,  he 
led  the  fellow,  with  the  hulking  body  of  him  for  a 
shield  and  mask,  out  of  the  circle  of  firelight  and 
into  the  safer  shadows  of  the  forest. 

When  I  had  made  a  creeping  detour  to  join  him, 
he  still  had  his  man  by  the  collar  and  was  empha- 
sizing the  need  for  silence  by  sundry  prickings  with 
the  Ferara. 

"Say,  quick !  what  to  do  with  him,  Jack  ?"  Ke  de- 
manded, when  I  came  up ;  and  now  my  slower  wit 
came  into  play. 

"Out  of  this  to  some  safer  dressing-room,  and  I'll 
show  you,"  said  I ;  and  forthwith  we  marched  our 
prize  up  the  valley  a  long  musket-shot  or  more. 

.When  the  soldier  had  leave  to  speak  he  begged 
right  lustily  for  his  life,  as  you  would  guess ;  but 
we  gave  him  a  short  shrift.  If  the  plan  I  had  in 
mind  should  have  a  fighting  chance  for  success  it 
must  be  set  in  train  before  this  trooper  should  be 
missed. 

So,  having  first  gagged  the  poor  devil  with  his 
own  neckerchief,  we  stripped  him  quickly;  and  I 
as  quickly  donned  the  borrowed  uniform  and  be- 
came, at  least  in  outward  semblance,  a  light-horse 
trooper  of  that  king  whose  service  I  had  once  for- 


A  TROOPER  BECAME  A  WASTREL     295 

sworn.  The  items  of  small-clothes,  waistcoat  and 
head-gear  fitted  me  passing  well,  but  when  it  came 
to  the  boots  we  stuck  fast,  and  I  was  forced  to  wear 
my  own  foot-coverings. 

The  change  made, — and  you  may  believe  no  play- 
house actor  of  them  all  ever  doffed  or  donned  a  cos- 
tume quicker, — we  bound  our  luckless  captive  hand 
and  foot,  pinned  him  face  downward  in  the  sward, 
and  so  leaving  him  with  only  his  boots  for  a  me- 
mento,— happily  for  him  the  night  was  no  more 
than  goose-flesh  cool, — we  raced  back  to  our  peep- 
ing-place  on  the  skirting  of  the  camp  ground. 

Here  Dick  wrung  my  hand,  calling  himself  all  the 
knaves  unspeakable  for  letting  me  take  a  risk  which 
he  was  pleased  to  call  his  own;  and  with  that  I 
stepped  out  into  the  firelight  and  was  fair  afoot  in 
the  enemy's  camp. 


XXVIII 

IN  WHICH  I  SADDLE  THE  BLACK  MA~RE 

Having  so  good  a  disguise,  the  thing  I  had  set 
myself  to  do  would  seem  to  ask  for  little  more  than 
peaceful  boldness  held  in  check  by  common  caution. 

The  point  where  I  had  broken  cover  to  step  into 
the  circle  of  fire  light  was  nearly  equidistant  from 
the  Englishmen's  camp  on  the  right  and  the  horse 
meadow  on  the  left,  so  I  had  not  to  pass  within  rec- 
ognition range  of  the  great  fire;  indeed,  I  might 
have  skulked  in  the  laurel  cover  all  the  way,  thus 
coming  to  the  horses  unseen  by  any,  but  that  I  was 
afraid  Falconnet  might  miss  his  trooper.  So  I 
thought  it  best  to  show  myself  discreetly. 

Copying  our  captive's  lounging  stride,  I  first  held 
a  sauntering  course  down  to  the  stream's  edge,  keep- 
ing the  great  camp-fire  and  the  droning  Indian  hive 
well  to  the  right  and  far  enough  aloof  to  baffle  any 
over-curious  eye  at  either.  Coming  to  the  stream 
without  mishap,  I  stopped  and  made  a  feint  of 
drinking;  after  which  I  crossed  and  climbed  slowly 
toward  the  makeshift  powder  magazine. 

As  I  have  said,  the  camp  was  pitched  in  a  small 
savanna  or  natural  clearing  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
296 


I   SADDLE   THE   BLACK   MARE      £97 

little  river.  This  clearing  was  hedged  about  by  the 
forest  on  three  sides,  and  backed  by  the  densely 
wooded  steeps  and  crags  of  the  western  cliff.  I 
guessed  the  compass  of  it  to  be  something  more 
than  an  acre ;  not  greatly  more,  since  the  fire  at  the 
troop  camp  lighted  all  its  boundaries. 

On  the  left  or  opposite  bank  of  the  stream  there 
was  no  intervale  at  all.  The  ground  rose  sharply 
from  the  water's  edge  in  a  rough  hillside  thickly 
studded  and  bestrewn  with  boulders  great  and 
small ;  fallen  cleavings  and  hewings  from  the  crags 
of  the  eastern  cliff.  'Twas  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the 
boulders,  a  huge  overhanging  mass  of  weather- 
riven  rock  facing  the  camp,  that  the  powder  cargo 
was  sheltered ;  so  isolated  to  be  out  of  danger  from 
the  camp-fires. 

From  the  hillside  just  below  this  powder  rock  I 
could  look  back  upon  the  camp  en  enfilade,  as  an 
artilleryman  would  say.  Nearest  at  hand  was  the 
half-moon  of  Indian  lodges  with  the  hollow  of  the 
crescent  facing  the  stream,  and  a  caldron  fire  burn- 
ing in  the  midst.  Around  the  fire  a  ring  of  warriors 
naked  to  the  breech-clout  kept  time  in  a  slow  shuf- 
fling dance  to  a  monotonous  chanting;  and  for  on- 
lookers there  was  an  outer  ring  of  squatting  figures 
— the  visiting  Tuckaseges,  as  I  supposed. 

Beyond  the  Indian  lodges,  and  a  little  higher  up 
the  gentle  slope  of  the  savanna,  were  the  troop 
shelters;  and  beyond  these,  half  concealed  in  the 
fringing  of  the  boundary  forest,  was  the  tepee- 
lodge  of  the  women. 


298       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY! 

On  the  bare  hillside  beneath  the  powder  maga- 
zine I  made  no  doubt  I  was  in  plainest  view  from 
the  great  fire,  and  the  proof  of  this  conclusion  came 
shortly  in  a  bellowing  hail  from  Falconnet. 

"Ho,  Jack  Warden !"  he  called,  making  a  speak- 
ing-trumpet of  his  hands  to  lift  the  hail  above  the 
chanting  of  the  Indian  dancers.  "Have  a  look  at 
that  shelter  whilst  you  are  over  there  and  make 
sure  'twill  shed  rain  if  the  weather  shifts." 

Now  some  such  long-range  marking  down  as 
this  was  what  I  had  been  angling  for.  So  I  came  to 
attention  and  saluted  in  soldierly  fashion,  thereby 
raising  a  great  laugh  among  my  pseudo-comrades 
around  the  trooper  fire — a  laugh  that  pointed 
shrewdly  to  the  baronet-captain's  lack  of  proper 
discipline.  But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  Hav- 
ing my  master's  order  for  it,  I  climbed  to  the  foot 
of  the  powder  rock. 

Here  the  bare  sight  of  all  the  stored-up  devasta- 
tion set  me  athirst  with  a  fierce  longing  for  leave  to 
snap  a  pistol  in  the  well-laid  mine.  For  if  these 
enemies  of  ours  had  planned  their  own  undoing 
they  could  never  have  given  a  desperate  foeman  a 
better  chance.  To  hold  the  pine  boughs  of  the  rude 
shelter  in  place  they  had  piled  a  great  loose  wall  of 
stones  around  and  over  the  cargo;  and  the  firing 
of  the  powder,  heaped  as  it  was  against  the  backing 
cliff  of  the  boulder,  would  hurl  these  weight- 
ing stones  in  a  murderous  broadside  upon  the  camp 
across  the  stream. 


I    SADDLE   THE   BLACK   MARE      299 

But  since  my  dear  lady  would  also  share  the  haz- 
ard of  such  a  broadside,  I  had  no  leave  to  blow  my- 
self and  the  powder  convoy  to  kingdom  come,  as  I 
thirsted  to — could  not,  you  will  say,  having  neither 
pistol  to  snap  nor  flint  and  steel  to  fire  a  train.  Nay, 
nay,  my  dears,  I  would  not  have  you  think  so  lightly 
of  my  invention.  Had  this  been  the  only  obstacle, 
you  may  be  sure  I  should  have  found  a  way  to  grind 
a  firing  spark  out  of  two  bits  of  stone. 

But  being  otherwise  enjoined,  as  I  say,  I  turned 
my  back  upon  the  temptation  and  held  to  the  busi- 
ness in  hand,  which  was  to  reach  and  recross  the 
stream  higher  up  and  so  to  come  among  the  horses. 

As  I  had  hoped  to  find  them,  the  saddles  were 
hung  upon  the  branches  of  the  nearest  trees,  Mar- 
gery's horse-furnishings  among  them.  At  first  the 
black  mare  was  shy  of  me,  but  a  gentling  word  or 
two  won  her  over,  and  she  let  me  take  her  by  the 
forelock  and  lead  her  deeper  into  the  herd  where  I 
could  saddle  and  bridle  her  in  greater  safety. 

My  plan  to  cut  her  out  was  simple  enough. 
Trusting  to  the  darkness — the  horse  meadow  was 
far  enough  from  the  fires  to  make  a  murky  twilight 
of  the  ruddy  glow — I  thought  to  lead  the  mare 
quietly  away  up  the  stream  and  thus  on  to  the  foot 
of  that  ravine  by  which  we  hoped  to  climb  to  the 
old  borderer's  rendezvous  on  the  plateau.  But  when 
all  was  ready  and  I  sought  to  set  this  plan  in  action, 
an  unforeseen  obstacle  barred  the  way.  To  keep 
the  horses  from  straying  up  the  valley  an  Indian 


300       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

sentry  line  was  strung  above  the  grazing  meadow, 
and  into  this  I  blundered  like  any  unlicked  knave 
of  a  raw  recruit. 

Had  I  been  armed,  the  warrior  who  rose  before 
me  phantom-like  in  the  laurel  edging  of  the  meadow 
would  have  had  a  most  sharp-pointed  answer 
to  his  challenge.  As  it  was, — I  had  left  my  sword 
with  Jennifer  because  the  captured  trooper  whose 
understudy  I  was  had  left  his  sword  in  camp, — 
I  tried  to  parley  with  the  sentry.  He  knew  no  word 
of  English",  nor  I  of  Cherokee;  but  that  deadlock 
was  speedily  broken.  A  guttural  call  summoned 
others  of  the  horse-keepers,  and  among  them  one 
who  spoke  a  little  English. 

"Ugh!  What  for  take  white  squaw  horse?"  he 
demanded. 

"  'Tis  the  captain's  order,"  I  replied,  lying  boldly 
to  fit  the  crisis. 

At  that  they  gave  me  room ;  and  had  I  hastened, 
I  had  doubtless  gone  at  large  without  more  ado. 
But  at  this  very  apex  point  of  hazard  I  must  needs 
play  out  the  part  of  unalarm  to  the  fool's  envoi,  tak- 
ing time  to  part  the  mare's  forelock  under  the  head- 
stall, and  looking  leisurely  to  the  lacings  of  the 
saddle-girth. 

This  foolhardy  delay  cost  me  all,  and  more  than 
all.  I  was  still  fiddle-faddling  with  the  girth  strap, 
the  better  to  impose  upon  my  Indian  horse-guards, 
when  suddenly  there  arose  a  yelling  hubbub  of 
laughter  in  the  camp  behind.  I  turned  to  look  and 


I   SADDLE   THE   BLACK   MARE      301 

beheld  a  thing  laughable  enough,  no  doubt,  and  yet 
it  broke  no  bubble  of  mirth  in  me.  Half-way  from 
the  nearest  forest  fringe  to  the  great  fire  a  man, 
white  of  skin,  and  clothed  only  in  a  pair  of  trooper 
boots,  was  running  swiftly  for  cover  to  the  nearest 
pine-bough  shelter,  shouting  like  an  escaped  Bed- 
lamite as  he  fled.  It  asked  for  no  second  glance, 
this  apparition  of  the  yelling  madman ;  'twas  our 
captive  soldier,  foot-loose  and  racing  in  to  raise  the 
hue  and  cry. 

Now  you  may  always  count  upon  this  failing  in  a 
cautious  man,  that  at  a  crisis  he  is  like  to  do  the 
unwisest  thing  that  offers.  This  cutting  out  of 
Margery's  mare  was  none  so  vital  a  matter  that  I 
should  have  risked  the  marring  of  Ephraim  Yeates's 
plan  upon  it.  Yet  having  done  this  very  thing,  I 
must  needs  make  a  bad  matter  infinitely  worse. 

Instead  of  mounting  to  ride  a  charge  through  the 
camp,  and  so  to  draw  the  pursuit  after  me  toward 
the  cavern  entrance,  as  I  should,  I  slapped  the  mare 
to  send  her  bounding  through  the  guard  line, 
snatched  a  saddle  from  its  oak-branch  peg  to  hurl 
it  in  the  faces  of  the  sentry  group,  and  darting  aside, 
plunged  into  the  laurel  thicket  to  come  by  running 
where  I  could  and  creeping  where  I  must  to  that 
place  where  I  had  left  Richard  Jennifer. 

All  hot  and  exasperated  as  I  was,  'twas  something 
less  than  cooling  to  find  Dick  a-double  on  tHe 
ground,  holding  his  sides  and  laughing  like  a  yokel 
at  his  first  pantomime. 


302       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

"Oh,  Ho,  ho !  did  you — did  you  twig  him,  Jack  ?" 
he  gasped.  "Saw  you  ever  such  a  mincing  puss-in- 
boots  since  the  Lord  made  you  ?  Ah !  ha !  ha !" 

"The  devil  take  your  ill-timed  humor!"  I  cried. 
"Up  with  you,  man,  and  let  us  vanish  while  we 
may !" 

By  this  the  camp  was  in  a  pretty  ferment,  as  you 
would  guess — our  late  captive  having  had  space 
enough  to  tell  his  tale.  Drunk  or  sober,  Falconnet 
was  afoot  and  alert,  shouting  his  orders  to  the 
Englishmen  who  were  scrambling  for  their  arms, 
and  to  the  Indians  who  came  swarming  up  from 
the  lodges. 

Whilst  we  looked,  the  Cherokees  scattered  like  a 
company  of  trained  gillies  to  beat  us  out  of 
cover ;  and  when  the  hunt  was  fairly  up,  the  baronet- 
captain  set  his  men  in  marching  order  to  surround 
the  wigwam  of  the  captives. 

As  yet  there  was  time  for  a  swift  retreat  up  the 
valley,  or  at  least  for  the  choosing  of  some  battle- 
field of  our  own  where  the  enemy  need  not  outnum- 
ber us  twenty  to  one ;  and  again  I  urged  Richard  to 
bestir  himself.  But  it  was  the  sight  of  Falconnet's 
troopers  deploying  to  surround  the  tepee-lodge, 
and  not  any  word  of  mine,  that  broke  his  merriment 
in  the  midst. 

At  a  bound  he  was  up  and  handing  me  my 
sword. 

"Good  by,  Jack;  go  you  whilst  you  can.  You'll 
be  like  to  meet  Eph  and  the  Catawba  coming  in; 
turn  them  back  and  tell  them  to  bide  their  time." 


I   SADDLE   THE   BLACK   MARE       303 

"But  you  ?"  I  would  say. 

"My  place  is  inside  of  that  soldier-cordon  our 
friend  is  drawing  about  his  dove-cote.  I  shall  be  at 
hand  when  she  needs  me,  as  I  promised." 

"Aye,  so  you  may  be ;  but  not  alone,"  said  I ;  and 
with  that  we  fell  to  running  like  a  pair  of  doubling 
foxes  through  the  wood  on  the  steep  slope  behind 
the  lodge,  striving  with  might  and  main  to  gain 
the  laurel  thicket  whence  we  had  made  our  first 
reconnaissance  before  the  converging  lines  of  the 
redcoat  cordon  should  close  and  shut  us  out. 

We  did  it  by  the  skin  of  our  teeth,  diving  to  cover 
through  the  closing  gap  not  a  second  too  soon. 
When  we  were  in  and  hugging  the  bare  ground  un- 
der the  scanty  leafing  of  the  laurel,  I  take  no  shame 
in  saying  that  I  would  have  given  a  king's  ransom 
to  be  at  large  again.  Had  there  been  but  one  of  us 
the  covert  would  have  been  cramped  enough ;  and  I 
was  painfully  conscious  that  my  borrowed  coat  of 
scarlet  was  but  a  poor  thing  to  hide  in. 

To  make  it  worse,  Falconnet,  who  had  lagged 
behind  at  the  fire,  was  now  heaping  fresh  fuel  on, 
and  this  reviving  of  the  blaze  made  the  place  as 
light  as  day.  With  the  nearest  links  in  the  redcoat 
chain  no  more  than  a  pike's-length  at  our  backs,  we 
dared  not  stir  or  breathe  a  word ;  and,  all  in  all,  we 
might  have  been  taken  like  rats  in  a  trap  had  any 
one  of  the  sentries  on  our  side  of  the  circle  chanced 
to  look  behind  him. 

Having  repaired  the  fire  to  his  liking,  the  troop- 
captain  came  up  to  pass  a  word  or  two  with  his 


304       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY, 

lieutenant.  They  spoke  guardedly,  but  we  could  hear 
— could  not  help  hearing. 

"You  have  seen  nothing,  Gordon?" 

"Nothing,  as  yet." 

"Make  the  round  again  and  tell  the  men  'twill  be 
ten  gold  joes  and  a  double  allowance  of  liquor  to 
the  man  who  first  claps  eyes  on  any  one  of  the  four." 

The  subaltern  went  to  carry  out  the  order,  and 
Falconnet  fell  to  pacing  back  and  forth  before  the 
little  wigwam.  I  could  see  his  face  at  the  turn 
where  the  firelight  fell  upon  him;  'twas  the  face 
of  a  villain  at  his  worst,  namely,  a  villain  half  in 
liquor.  There  was  a  lurking  devil  of  passion  peer- 
ing out  of  the  sensuous  eyes ;  and  ever  and  anon  he 
stopped  as  if  to  listen  for  some  sound  within  the 
captives'  lodge. 

When  the  lieutenant  returned  to  make  his  report, 
he  was  given  another  order  to  cap  the  first. 

"Your  line  is  too  close-drawn  and  too  conspicu- 
ous," said  the  captain,  shortly.  "Move  the  men  out 
fifty  paces  in  advance,  and  bid  them  take  cover." 

"They  will  scarce  be  within  hail  of  each  other  at 
that,"  says  the  lieutenant. 

"Near  enough,  with  ten  gold  pieces  to  sharpen 
their  eyesight.  Go  you  with  them  and  hold  them 
to  their  work." 

The  line  was  presently  extended  as  the  order  ran, 
each  link  in  the  cordon  chain  advancing  fifty  paces 
on  its  front  into  the  forest.  Dick  fetched  a  deep 
sigh  of  relief ;  and  I  thought  less  of  the  thin-leafed 
cover  and  the  scarlet  coat  of  me. 


I   SADDLE   THE   BLACK   MARE      305 

i 
Falconnet  had  resumed  the  pacing  of  his  sentry 

beat  before  the  lodge,  but  when  his  men  were  out 
of  sight  and  hearing  he  stopped  short  and  stole  on 
tiptoe  to  lay  his  ear  to  the  flap. 

"So,  you  are  awake,  Mistress  Margery?  Send 
your  woman  out.  I  would  speak  with  you — alone." 

There  was  no  reply,  but  we  could  both  hear  the 
low  anguished  voice  of  our  dear  lady  praying  for 
help  in  this  her  hour  of  trial.  Dick  inched  aside 
to  give  me  room,  freeing  his  weapon,  as  I  did  mine. 
We  were  not  over-quiet  about  it,  but  the  captain  of 
horse  was  too  hot  upon  his  own  devil's  business  to 
look  behind  him. 

Having  no  answer  from  within,  he  stooped  to 
loose  the  flap.  It  was  pegged  down  on  the  inside. 
He  rose  and  whipped  out  his  sword;  the  firelight 
fell  upon  his  face  again  and  we  saw  it  as  it  had  been 
the  face  of  a  foul  fiend  from  the  pit. 

"Open !"  he  commanded ;  and  when  there  was 
neither  reply  nor  obedience,  he  cut  the  flap  free  with 
his  sword  and  flung  it  back. 

The  two  women  within  the  wigwam  were  on  their 
knees  before  a  little  crucifix  hanging  on  the  lodge 
wall.  So  much  we  saw  as  we  broke  cover  and  ran 
in  upon  the  despoiler.  Then  the  battle-madness 
came  upon  us  and  I,  for  one,  saw  naught  but  the 
tense-drawn  face  of  a  swordsman  fighting  for  his 
life — a  face  in  which  the  hot  flush  of  evil  passion 
had  given  place  to  the  ashen  graying  of  fear. 

We  drove  at  him  together,  Dick  and  I,  and  so 
must  needs  fall  afoul  of  each  other  clumsily,  giving 


3o6       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY, 

him  time  to  spring  back  and  so  to  miss  the  claymore 
stroke  which  else  would  have  shorn  him  to  the  mid- 
dle. Then  ensued  as  pretty  a  bit  of  blade  work  as 
any  master  of  the  old  cut-and-thrust  school  could 
wish  to  see ;  and  through  it  all  this  king's  captain  of 
horse  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life. 

There  was  no  punctilio  of  the  code  of  honor  in 
this  duel  d  entrance.  Knowing  our  time  was  short, 
we  fought  as  men  who  fight  with  halters  round 
their  necks ;  not  to  decide  a  nice  point  at  issue,  but 
to  kill  this  accursed  villain  as  we  would  kill  a  mad 
dog  or  a  venomous  reptile  whose  living  on  imper- 
iled the  life  and  honor  of  the  woman  we  loved. 

Thrice,  whilst  I  held  him  in  play,  Dick  rushed  in 
to  end  it  with  a  scythe-sweep  of  the  broadsword; 
and  thrice  the  Scottish  death  was  turned  aside  by  the 
flashing  circle  of  steel  wherewith  the  man  striving 
shrewdly  to  gain  time  made  shift  to  shield  himself. 

Yet  it  was  not  in  flesh  and  blood  to  fend  the 
double  onslaught  for  more  than  some  brief  minute 
or  two.  Play  as  he  would — and  no  schl'd germeister 
of  my  old  field-marshal's  picked  troop  could  best  him 
at  this  game  of  parry  and  defense — he  must  give 
ground  step  by  step ;  slowly  at  the  pressing  of  the 
Ferara,  and  in  quick  backward  leaps  when  the  great 
broadsword  bit  at  him. 

For  the  first  few  bouts  he  withstood  us  in  grim 
silence.  But  now  Richard  cut  in  again  and  the 
claymore  stroke,  less  skilfully  turned  aside,  brought 
him  to  his  knees.  This  broke  his  bull  courage  some- 
what, and  though  he  was  afoot  and  on  guard  before 


I    SADDLE   THE    BLACK   MARE       307 

my  point  could  reach  him,  he  began  to  bellow 
lustily  for  help. 

As  you  would  suppose,  the  call  was  all  unneeded. 
At  the  first  clash  of  steel  the  outlying  troopers 
were  up  and  swarming  to  the  rescue ;  and  now  on 
all  sides  came  the  trampling  rush  of  the  in-closing 
cordon  line. 

Had  Falconnet  held  his  ground  a  moment  longer 
he  would  have  had  us  fast  in  the  jaws  of  the  trooper- 
trap;  but  'tis  the  fatal  flaw  in  mere  brute  courage 
that  it  will  break  at  the  pinch.  No  sooner  did  the 
volunteer  captain  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  up-coming 
reinforcements  than  he  must  needs  show  us  a  clean 
pair  of  heels,  running  like  a  craven  coward  and 
shouting  madly  to  his  men  to  close  with  us  and  cut 
us  down. 

"After  him!"  roared  Dick,  who  was  by  now  as 
rage-mad  as  any  berserker;  and  with  a  cut  and 
thrust  to  right  and  left  for  the  nipping  trap- jaws 
we  were  out  and  away  in  chase. 

Now  you  may  mark  this  as  you  will ;  that  whilst 
the  devil  hath  need  of  his  bond-servant  he  will  come 
between  with  a  miracle  if  need  be  to  keep  the 
villain  breath  of  life  in  his  vassal.  Three  bounds 
beyond  the  closing  trap-jaws  fetched  us,  pursued 
and  pursuers,  to  the  open  camp  field;  and  here  the 
devil's  miracle  was  wrought.  Out  of  the  forest 
fringe,  out  of  the  skirting  of  undergrowth,  out  of 
the  very  earth,  as  it  seemed,  uprose  a  yelling  mob 
of  Cherokees — the  detachment  we  had  met  in  the 
cavern  returned  in  the  very  nick  of  time  to  cut  us 


308        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

off  from  the  pursuit  and  to  ring  us  in  a  whooping 
circle  of  death. 

"Back  to  back,  lad!"  I  shouted;  and  'twas  thus 
we  met  their  onslaught. 

In  such  a  fray  as  that  which  followed  'tis  the 
trivial  things  that  leave  their  mark  upon  the  mem- 
ory. For  one,  I  recall  the  curious  thrill  of  master- 
might  it  gave  me  to  feel  the  play  of  Jennifer's  great 
shoulder  muscles  against  my  back  in  his  plying  of 
the  heavy  claymore.  For  another,  I  remember  the 
sickening  qualm  I  had  when  the  warm  blood  of  my 
second — or  mayhap  'twas  the  third — gushed  out 
upon  my  sword  hand,  and  I  remember,  too,  how 
the  impaled  one,  driven  in  upon  the  blade  by  the 
pressure  of  his  fellows  behind,  would  lay  hold  of  the 
sharp  steel  and  try  in  the  death  throe  to  with- 
draw it. 

But  after  that  sickening  qualm  I  recall  only  this ; 
that  I  could  not  free  the  sword  for  another  thrust, 
and  whilst  I  tugged  and  fought  for  space  they 
dragged  me  down  and  buried  me,  these  fierce  tribes- 
men, piling  so  thick  upon  me  that  sight  and  sound 
and  breath  went  out  together,  and  I  was  but  an 
atom  crushed  to  earth  beneath  the  human  avalanche. 


XXIX 

IN  WHICH,  HAVING  DANCED,  WE  PAY  THE  PIPER 

Measured  by  the  sense  which  takes  cognizance 
of  pauses  it  seemed  no  more  than  a  moment  between 
the  stamping  out  of  breath  and  its  gasping  recovery. 
But  in  the  interval  the  scene  had  shifted  from  the 
open  savanna  to  a  thinly  set  grove  of  oaks  with  th'e 
stream  brawling  through  the  midst. 

To  the  biggest  of  the  trees  I  was  tightly  bound ; 
and  a  little  way  apart  a  fire,  newly  kindled,  smoked 
and  blazed  up  fitfully.  By  the  light  of  the  fire  a 
good  score  of  the  Cherokees  were  gathering  dead- 
falls and  dry  branches  to  heap  beside  me ;  and  from 
the  camp  below,  the  Indian  lodges  of  which  were 
in  plain  view  beyond  the  intervening  horse  meadow, 
other  savages  were  hurrying  to  join  the  wood 
carriers. 

So  far  as  these  hasting  preliminaries  applied  to 
me,  their  meaning  was  not  difficult  to  read.  I  was 
to  be  burned  at  the  stake  in  proper  savage  fashion. 
But  Richard  Jennifer — what  had  become  of  him? 
A  sound,  half  sigh,  half  groan,  told  me  where  to 
look.  Hard  by,  bound  to  a  tree  as  I  was,  and  so 
309 


3io        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

near  that  with  a  free  hand  I  could  have  touched 
him,  was  my  poor  lad. 

"Dick!"  I  cried. 

He  turned  his  head  as  the  close-drawn  thongs 
permitted  and  gave  me  a  smile  as  loving-tender  as 
a  woman's. 

"Aye,  Jack ;  they  have  us  hard  and  fast  this  time. 
I  have  been  praying  you'd  never  come  alive  enough 
to  feel  the  fire." 

"We  were  taken  together?"  So  much  I  dared 
ask. 

"In  the  same  onset.  'Twas  but  a  question  of 
clock  ticks  in  that  back-to-back  business.  But  they 
paid  scot  and  lot,"  this  with  an  inching  nod  toward 
a  row  of  naked  bodies  propped  sitting  against  a 
fallen  tree ;  nine  of  them  in  all,  one  with  its  severed 
head  between  its  knees,  and  three  others  showing 
the  gaping  hacks  and  hewings  of  the  great  broad- 
sword. 

"They've  fetched  them  here  to  see  us  burn,"  he 
went  on.  "But  by  the  gods,  we  have  the  warrant 
of  two  good  blades  and  Ephraim  Yeates's  hunting- 
knife  that  the  only  fires  they'll  ever  see  are  those 
of  hell." 

"Yeates  ?"  I  queried.  "Then  they  have  taken  him 
and  the  Catawba,  as  well?" 

"Not  alive,  you  may  be  sure,  else  we  should  have 
them  for  company.  But  it  has  a  black  look  for  our 
friends  that  the  flying  column  we  met  in  the  stream- 
cave  came  back  so  soon.  Moreover,  the  bodies  of 
the  three  peace-pipe  smokers  were  found  and 


HAVING   DANCED,   WE   PAY        311 

brought  in ;  that  will  be  the  Great  Bear  holding  his 
head  in  his  hands  at  the  end  of  yonder  bloody 
masquerade." 

"I  guessed  as  much.  God  rest  our  poor  com- 
rades!" 

"Aye;  and  God  help  Madge!  'Tis  no  time  for 
reproaches,  but  amongst  us  we  have  signed  her 
death  warrant  with  our  bunglings." 

"If  it  were  only  death !"  I  groaned. 

"  'Tis  just  that,  Jack,"  said  he ;  "no  better,  may- 
hap, but  no  worse.  When  we  were  downed  by  that 
screeching  mob,  she  was  out  and  on  her  knees  to 
Falconnet,  beseeching  him  to  spare  us.  He  put  her 
off  smoothly  at  first,  saying  'twas  the  Indians' 
affair — that  they  would  not  be  balked  of  their  ven- 
geance by  any  interference  of  his.  But  when  she 
only  begged  the  more  piteously,  he  showed  his  true 
colors,  rapping  out  that  we  should  have  as  swift 
a  quittance  as  we  had  meant  to  give  him,  and  that 
within  the  hour  she  should  be  the  mistress  of  Ap- 
pleby  and  free  to  marry  an  English  gentleman." 

"Well?"  said  I,  making  sure  that  now  at  last  he 
must  know  all. 

"At  that  she  stood  before  him  bravely,  and  I  saw 
that  all  the  time  she  had  had  the  Catawba's  knife 
hidden  in  the  folds  of  her  gown.  'You  have  spoken 
truth  for  once,  Captain  Falconnet ;  I  shall  be  free,' 
she  said.  'Come  and  tell  me  when  you  have  added 
these  to  your  other  murders.'  " 

"And  then?" 

"Then   she  went  back  to  her  prison  wigwam, 


312 

walking  through  the  rabble  of  redcoats  and  red- 
skins as  proudly  as  the  Scottish  Mary  went  to  the 
block." 

"She  will  do  it,  think  you?"  I  queried,  fearful 
lest  she  would,  but  more  fearful  lest  her  courage 
should  fail  at  the  pinch. 

"Never  doubt  it.  Good  Catholic  as  she  is,  there 
is  martyr  blood  in  her  on  the  mother's  side,  and  that 
will  help  her  to  die  unsullied.  And  God  nerve  her 
to  it,  say  I." 

I  said  "Amen"  to  that;  and  thereupon  we  both 
fell  silent,  watching  as  condemned  men  on  the  gal- 
lows the  busy  preparations  for  our  taking  off. 

Again,  as  in  the  late  battle,  it  was  the  trivial 
things  that  moved  me  most.  Chief  among  them 
the  grinning  row  of  dead  Indians  propped  against 
the  fallen  tree  is  the  constant  background  for  all 
the  memory  pictures  of  that  waiting  interval,  and 
I  can  see  those  stiffening  corpses  now,  some  erect, 
as  if  defying  us ;  some  lopping  this  way  or  that,  as 
if  their  bones  had  gone  to  water  at  the  touch  of  the 
steel. 

I  know  not  why  these  poor  relics  of  mortality 
should  have  held  me  fascinated  as  they  did.  Yet 
when  I  would  look  away,  through  the  vista 
to  where  the  light  of  the  great  fire  in  the  savanna 
camp  played  luridly  upon  the  Indian  lodges,  or, 
nearer  at  hand,  upon  the  savages  gathering  the 
wood  to  burn  us  with,  this  ghastly  file  of  the  dead 
drew  me  irresistibly,  and  I  must  needs  pass  the 
fearsome  figures  in  review  again,  marking  the  star- 


HAVING  DANCED,   WE   PAY        313 

ing  eyes*  and  unnatural  postures,  and  the  circular 
blood-black  patches  on  the  heads  of  the  three  peace- 
men  whom  Yeates  and  the  Catawba  had  scalped. 

While  they  were  making  ready  for  the  burning, 
our  executioners  were  strangely  silent;  but  when 
the  work  was  done  they  formed  in  a  semicircle  to 
front  the  row  of  corpses  and  set  up  a  howling  chant 
that  would  have  put  a  band  of  Mohammedan 
dervishes  to  the  blush. 

'  'Tis  the  death  song  for  the  slain,"  said  Richard  ; 
and  while  it  lasted,  this  moving  tableau  of  naked 
figures,  keeping  time  in  a  weird  stamping  dance  to 
the  rising  and  falling  ululation  of  the  chant,  held  us 
spellbound. 

But  we  were  not  long  suffered  to  be  mere  curious 
onlookers.  In  its  dismalest  flight  the  death  song 
ended  in  a  shrill  hubbub,  and  the  dancers  turned  as 
one  man  to  face  us. 

I  hope  it  may  never  be  your  lot,  my  dears,  to 
meet  and  endure  such  a  horrid  glare  of  human 
ferocity  as  that  these  wrought-up  avengers  of  blood 
bent  upon  us.  'Twas  more  unnerving  than  aught 
that  had  gone  before ;  more  terrible,  I  thought,  than 
aught  that  could  come  after.  Yet,  as  to  this,  you 
shall  judge  for  yourselves. 

The  pause  was  brief,  and  when  a  lad  ran  up  to 
cut  the  thongs  that  bound  us  from  the  middle  up, 
the  torture-play  began  in  deadly  earnest.  Whilst 
the  Indian  youth  \vas  slashing  at  the  deerskin,  Rich- 
ard gave  me  my  cue. 

"  'Tis  the  knife  and  hatchet  play ;  they  are  loosing 


314       THE  MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

us  to  give  us  freedom  to  shrink  and  dodge.  Look 
straight  before  you  and  never  flinch  a  hair,  as  you 
would  keep  the  life  in  you  from  one  minute  to  the 
next!" 

"Trust  me,"  said  I.  "We  must  eke  it  out  as  long 
as  we  can,  if  only  to  give  our  dear  lady  time  for 
another  prayer  or  two.  Mayhap  she  will  name  us 
in  them ;  God  knows,  our  need  is  sore  enough." 

The  lad  ran  back,  and  a  warrior  stood  out,  jug- 
gling his  tomahawk  in  air.  He  made  a  feint  to 
cast  it  at  Richard,  but  instead  sent  it  whizzing 
at  me. 

That  first  missile  was  harder  to  face  unflinching 
than  were  all  the  others.  I  saw  it  leave  the 
thrower's  hand ;  saw  it  coming  straight,  as  I  would 
think,  to  split  my  skull.  The  prompting  to  dodge 
was  well-nigh  masterful  enough  to  override  the 
strongest  will.  Yet  I  did  make  shift  to  hold  fast, 
and  in  mid  flight  the  twirling  ax  veered  aside  to 
miss  me  by  a  hair's-breadth,  gashing  the  tree  at  my 
ear  when  it  struck. 

"Bravo !  well  met !"  cried  Richard ;  and  then,  be- 
twixt his  teeth :  "Here  comes  mine." 

As  he  spoke,  a  second  tomahawk  was  sped.  I 
heard  it  strike  with  a  dull  crash  that  might  have  been 
on  flesh  and  bone,  or  on  oak-bark — I  could  not 
tell.  I  dared  not  look  aside  till  Richard's  taunting 
laugh  gave  me  leave  to  breathe  again. 

The  Indians  answered  the  laugh  with  a  yell; 
and  now  the  marksmen  stood  out  quickly  one  after 
another  and  for  a  little  space  the  air  was  full  of 


HAVING   DANCED,   WE   PAY       315 

hurtling  missiles.  You  will  read  in  the  romances 
of  the  wondrous  skill  of  these  savages  in  such 
diversions  as  these ;  how  they  will  pin  the  victim  to 
a  tree  and  never  miss  of  sticking  knife*  or  hatchet 
within  the  thickness  of  the  blade  where  they  will. 
But  you  must  take  these  tales  with  a  dash  of  al- 
lowance for  the  romancers'  fancy.  Truly,  these 
Indians  of  ours  threw  well  and  skilfully ;  'tis  a  part 
of  the  only  trade  they  know — the  trade  of  war — 
to  send  a  weapon  true  to  the  mark.  None  the  less, 
some  of  the  missiles  flew  wide;  and  now  and  then 
one  would  nip  the  cloth  of  sleeve  or  body  covering — 
and  the  flesh  beneath  it,  as  well. 

Dick  had  more  of  the  nippings  than  I ;  and  though 
he  kept  up  a  running  fire  of  taunts  and  gibing  flings 
at  the  marksmen,  I  could  hear  the  gritting  oaths 
aside  when  they  pinked  him. 

Notwithstanding,  the  worst  of  these  miscasts  fell 
to  my  lot.  A  hatchet,  sped  by  the  clumsiest  hand 
of  all,  missed  its  curving,  turned,  and  the  helve  of 
it  struck  me  fair  in  the  stomach.  Not  all  the  part- 
ing pangs  of  death,  as  I  fondly  believe,  will  lay  a 
heavier  toll  on  fortitude  than  did  this  griping-stroke 
which  I  must  endure  standing  erect.  'Tis  no  figure 
of  speech  to  say  that  I  would  have  given  the  rever- 
sion of  a  kingdom,  and  a  crown  to  boot,  for  leave 
to  double  over  and  groan  out  the  agony  of  it. 

Happily  for  us,  there  were  no  women  with  the 
band,  so  we  were  spared  the  crueler  refinements  of 
these  ante-burning  torments;  the  flaying  alive  by 
inch-bits,  and  the  sticking  of  blazing  splints  of  pitch- 


3i6       THE   MASTER  OF  'APPLEBY, 

wood  in  the  flesh  to  make  death  a  thing  to  be  prayed 
for.  There  was  naught  of  this ;  and  tiring  finally 
of  the  marksman  play,  the  Indians  made  ready  to 
burn  us.  Some  ran  to  recover  the  spent  weapons ; 
others  made  haste  to  heap  the  wood  in  a  broad 
circle  about  our  trees ;  and  the  chief,  with  three  or 
four  to  help,  renewed  the  deer-thong  lashings. 

'Twas  in  the  rebinding  that  this  headman,  a 
right  kingly-looking  savage  as  these  barbarians  go, 
thrust  a  bit  of  paper  into  my  hand,  and  gave  me  time 
to  glance  its  message  out  by  tlie  light  of  the  fire. 
'Twas  a  line  from  Margery;  and  this  is  what  she 
said: 

Dear  Heart: 

Though  you  must  needs  believe  my  love  is 
pledged  to  your  good  friend  and  mine,  'tis  yours, 
and  yours  alone,  my  lion-hearted  one.  I  am  pray- 
ing the  good  God  to  give  you  dying  grace,  and  me 
the  courage  to  follow  you  quickly.  Margery. 

This  by  the  hand  of  Tallachama. 

For  one  brief  instant  a  wave  of  joy  caught  and 
flung  me  upon  its  highest  crest,  and  all  these  savage 
tormentors  could  do  to  me  became  as  naught.  Then, 
the  true  meaning  of  this  her  brave  Are  atquc  vale 
smote  me  like  a  space-flung  meteor,  and  the  joy- 
wave  became  an  ocean  of  despair  to  engulf  me 
in  its  blackest  depths.  The  letter  was  never  meant 
for  me;  'twas  for  Richard  Jennifer,  who,  as  she 


HAVING   DANCED,    WE    PAY        317 

would  think,  must  know  the  story  of  her  marriage 
to  his  friend  and  must  believe  her  love  went  with 
the  giving  of  her  hand.  And  she  named  him  Lion- 
Heart  because  he  was  brave,  and  true,  and  strong, 
like  that  first  English  Richard  of  the  kingly  line. 

I  thrust  the  message  back  upon  the  bearer  of  it, 
begging  him  in  dumb  show  to  give  it  quickly  to  my 
companion.  I  knew  not  at  the  time  if  he  did  it,  be- 
ing so  crushed  and  blinded  by  this  fresh  misery. 
But  when  the  Indians  drew  off  to  ring  us  in  a  chant- 
ing circle  for  the  final  act,  I  would  not  let  the  lad  see 
my  face  for  fear  he  might  fathom  the  heart-break 
in  me  and  know  the  cause  of  it. 

'Twas  at  this  crisis,  when  all  was  ready  and  one 
had  run  to  fetch  the  fire,  that  I  heard  a  smothered 
oath  from  Dick  and  saw  the  Indian  who  was  coming 
up  to  fire  the  wood  heaps  drop  his  brand  and  tread 
upon  it. 

"Ecod !"  said  a  voice,  courtier-like  and  smoothly 
modulated.  "  Tis  most  devilish  lucky  I  came,  Cap- 
tain Ireton.  Another  moment  and  they  would  have 
grilled  you  in  the  king's  uniform — a  rank  trea- 
son, to  say  naught  of  poor  Jack  Warden  left  with- 
out a  clout  to  cover  him." 

It  needed  not  the  glance  aside  to  name  mine  en- 
emy. But  I  would  not  pleasure  him  with  an  answer. 
Neither  would  Richard  Jennifer.  He  stood  silent 
for  a  little  space,  smiling  and  nursing  his  chin 
in  one  hand,  as  his  habit  was.  Then  he  spoke 
again. 

"I  came  to  bid  you  God-speed,  gentlemen.    You 


318       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

tumbled  bravely  into  my  little  trap.  I  made  no 
doubt  you'd  follow  where  the  lady  led,  and  so  you 
did.  But  you'll  turn  back  from  this,  I  do  assure 
you,  if  there  be  any  virtue  in  an  Indian  barbecue." 

At  this  Richard  could  hold  in  no  longer. 

"Curse  you!"  he  gritted.  "Do  you  mean  that 
you  kidnapped  Mistress  Stair  to  draw  us  out 
of  hiding?" 

"Truly,"  said  this  arch-fiend,  smiling  again. 
"Most  unluckily  for  you,  you  both  stood  in  my  way, 
— you  see  I  am  speaking  of  it  now  as  a  thing  past, 
— and  I  chanced  upon  this  thought  of  killing  two 
birds  with  the  one  stone;  nay,  three,  I  should  say, 
if  you  count  the  lady  in." 

"Have  done!"  choked  Richard,  in  a  voice  thick 
with  impotent  rage.  "Give  place,  you  hound,  and 
let  your  savages  to  their  work !" 

"At  your  pleasure,  Mr.  Jennifer.  I  have  no  fancy 
for  funeral  baked  meats,  hot  or  cold,  though  they 
be  made,  as  now,  to  furnish  forth  a  marriage  sup- 
per. I  bid  you  good  night,  gentlemen.  I'll  go 
and  make  that  call  upon  the  lady  which  you 
were  so  rude  as  to  interrupt  a  little  while  ago." 
And  with  that  he  turned  his  back  upon  us  and  strode 
away,  forgetting  to  tell  his  redskinned  myrmidons 
to  strip  me  of  that  king's  uniform  he  was  so  loath 
to  have  me  burned  in. 

The  Cherokees  waited  till  the  master-executioner 
was  out  of  sight  among  the  trees.  Then  they  set 
up  their  infernal  howling  again,  and  the  fire-lighter 
ran  to  fetch  a  fresh  brand. 


HAVING  DANCED,   WE   PAY       319 

"Courage,  lad !  'twill  soon  be  over  now,"  said  I, 
hearing  a  groan  from  my  poor  Dick. 

His  reply  was  a  chattering  curse,  not  upon  Fal- 
connet  or  the  Indians,  but  upon  his  malady,  the 
tertian  fever. 

"Now,  by  all  the  fiends!  I'm  chilling  again, 
Jack!"  he  gasped.  "If  these  cursed  wood-wolves 
mark  it,  they'll  set  it  down  to  woman  cowardice  and 
that  will  break  my  heart !" 

Again  I  bade  him  be  of  good  courage,  assuring 
him,  not  derisively,  as  it  looks  when  'tis  written  out, 
that  the  fire  would  presently  medicine  the  chilling. 
In  the  middle  of  the  saying  the  lighted  brand  was 
fetched  and  thrust  among  our  fagotings,  and  the 
upward-curling  smoke  wreaths  made  me  gasp  and 
strangle  at  the  finish. 

For  a  little  time  after  the  sucking  in  of  that  first 
smoke-breath — nature's  anodyne  for  any  of  her  poor 
creatures  doomed  to  die  by  fire — I  saw  and  heard 
less  clearly  and  suffered  only  by  anticipation.  But 
to  this  day  the  smell  of  burning  pine-wood  is 
like  a  sleeping  potion  to  me ;  and  the  sleep  it  brings 
is  full  of  dreams  vaguely  troubled. 

So,  while  the  Indians  danced  and  leaped  about  us, 
brandishing  their  weapons  and  chanting  the  captives' 
death  song,  and  while  the  blue  and  yellow  tongues 
of  flame  mounted  from  twig  to  twig,  climbing 
stealthily  to  flick  at  us  like  little  vanishing  demon 
whips,  I  saw  and  heard  and  felt  as  one  remote 
from  all  the  torture  turmoil  of  the  moment. 
Through  the  dimming  haze  of  sleeping  sensibility 


320       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

the  dancing  savages  became  as  marionettes  in  some 
cunning  puppet  show ;  and  the  blood  stained  figures 
stiffening  against  their  log  took  shapes  less  horri- 
fying. 

'Twas  Dick's  voice,  coming,  as  it  seemed,  from  a 
mighty  distance,  that  broke  the  spell  and  brought 
me  back  to  quickened  agonies.  He  spoke  in  panting 
gasps,  as  the  smoke  would  let  him. 

"One  word,  Jack,  before  we  go — go  to  our  own 
place.  He  said — he  said  she  would  be  free  to — 
to  marry  him.  Tell  me  .  .  .  O  God  in 
Heaven!" 

His  agony  was  a  lash  to  cut  me  deeper  than  any 
flicking  demon  whip  of  flame,  yet  I  must  needs 
add  to  it. 

"Aye,  Richard,  I  have  wronged  you,  wronged  you 
desperately;  can  you  hear  me  yet?  I  say  I  have 
wronged  you,  and  I  shall  die  the  easier  if  you'll 
forgive — " 

Once  more  the  smoke,  rising  again  in  denser 
clouds,  cut  me  off,  and  through  the  blinding  blue 
haze  of  it  I  saw  the  Indians  running  up  with  green 
branches  to  beat  it  down  lest  it  should  spoil  their 
sport  oversoon  by  smothering  us  out  of  hand. 

With  the  chance  to  gasp  and  breathe  again  I 
would  have  confessed  in  full  to  Richard  Jennifer 
and  had  him  shrive  me  if  he  would.  But  when  I 
called,  he  did  not  answer.  His  head  was  rolling 
from  side  to  side,  and  his  handsome  young  face 
was  all  drawn  and  distorted  as  in  the  awful  grimaces 
of  the  death  throe. 


HAVING   DANCED,   WE   PAY        321 

You  will  not  wonder  that  I  could  not  look  at  him ; 
that  I  looked  away  for  very  pity's  sake,  praying 
that  I  might  quickly  breathe  the  flames,  as  I  made 
sure  he  had,  and  so  be  the  sooner  past  the  anguish 
crisis. 

There  was  good  hope  that  the  prayer  would  have 
a  speedy  answer.  The  fires  were  burning  clearer 
now,  leaping  up  in  broad  dragon's  tongues  of  flame 
from  the  outer  edges  of  the  fagot  piles  to  curtain 
off  all  that  lay  beyond.  Through  the  luminous 
flame-veil  the  capering  savages  took  on  shapes  the 
most  weird  and  grotesque ;  and  when  I  had  a  glimpse 
of  the  dead  men's  row,  each  hideous  face  in  it 
seemed  to  wear  a  grin  of  leering  triumph. 

Thus  far  there  had  been  never  a  puff  of  wind 
to  fan  the  blaze.  But  now  above  the  shrilling  of 
the  Indian  chant  and  the  crackling  of  the  flames 
a  low  growl  of  thunder  trembled  in  the  upper  air, 
and  a  gentle  breeze  swept  through  the  tree-tops. 

So  now  I  would  commend  my  soul  to  God,  making 
sure  that  the  breath  He  gave  would  go  out  on  the 
wings  of  the  first  gust  that  should  come  to  drive 
the  fiery  veil  inward.  But  when  the  gust  came  it 
was  from  behind ;  a  sweeping  besom  to  beat  down 
the  leaping  dragons'  tongues;  a  pouring  flood  of 
blessed  coolness  to  turn  the  ebbing  life-tide  and  to 
set  the  dulled  senses  once  more  keenly  alert. 

With  the  wind  came  the  rain,  a  passing  summer- 
night's  shower  of  great  drops  spattering  on  the 
leaves  above  and  dripping  thence  to  fall  hissing 
in  the  fires.  Then  the  thunder  growled  again ;  and 


322        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBYi 

into  the  monotonous  droning  of  the  Indian  chant, 
or  rather  rising  sharp  and  clear  above  it,  came  a 
sudden  rattling  fire  of  musketry  from  the  camp  in 
the  savanna — this,  and  the  sharp  skirling  of  the 
troop  captain's  whistle  shrilling  the  assembly. 

While  yet  the  flames  lay  flattened  in  the  wind,  I 
saw  the  Indians  wheel  and  bound  away  to  the  rescue 
of  their  camp  like  a  pack  of  hounds  in  full  cry.  In 
a  trice  they  were  wallowing  through  the  stream 
at  the  foot  of  the  powder  boulder;  and  then,  as 
the  flames  leaped  up  again,  a  dark  form  burst 
through  the  fiery  barrier,  my  bonds  were  cut,  and 
a  strong  hand  plucked  me  out  of  the  scorching 
hell-pit. 

If  I  did  aught  to  help  it  was  all  mechanical. 
I  do  remember  dimly  some  fierce  struggle  to  free 
my  legs  from  the  blazing  tangle ;  this,  and  the  swell- 
ing sob  of  joy  at  the  sight  of  the  faithful  Catawba 
hacking  at  Dick's  lashings  and  dragging  him  also 
free  of  the  fire.  And  you  may  believe  the  welcome 
tears  came  to  ease  the  pain  of  my  seared  eyes  when 
my  poor  lad — I  had  thought  him  gone  past  human 
help — took  two  staggering  steps  and  flung  his  arms 
about  my  neck. 

Uncanoola  gave  us  no  time  to  come  by  easy  stages 
to  full-wit  sanity.  In  a  twinkling  he  had  pounced 
upon  us  to  crush  us  one  upon  the  other  behind  the 
larger  tree.  And  now  I  come  upon  another  of  those 
flitting  instants  so  crowded  with  happenings  that 
the  swiftest  pen  must  seem  to  make  them  lag. 
Twas  all  in  a  heart-beat,  as  it  were :  the  Catawba's 


HAVING  DANCED,   WE   PAY       323 

freeing  of  us;  his  flinging-  us  to  earth  behind  the 
tree ;  a  spurt  of  blinding  yellow  flame  from  the  foot 
of  the  powder-cliff,  and  a  booming,  jarring  shock 
like  that  of  an  earthquake. 

The  momentary  glare  of  the  yellow  flash  lit  up 
a  scene  most  awe-inspiring.  The  spouting  fountain 
of  fire  at  the  base  of  the  great  powder-rock  was 
thick  with  flying  missiles ;  and  on  high  the  very 
cliff  itself  was  tottering  and  crumbling.  So  much 
I  saw ;  then  the  Catawba  sprang  up  to  haul  us  afoot 
by  main  strength,  and  to  rush  us,  with  an  arm  for 
each,  headlong  through  the  wood  toward  the  valley 
head. 

But  Dick  hung  back,  and  when  the  dull  thunder 
of  the  falling  rocks,  the  crash  of  the  tumbling  cliff 
and  the  shrill  death  yells  of  the  doomed  ones  came 
to  our  ears,  he  fought  loose  from  the  Indian  and 
flung  himself  down,  crying  as  if  his  heart  would 
break. 

"O  God !  she's  lost,  she's  lost ! — and  I  have  missed 
tKe  chance  to  die  with  her  or  for  her  1" 


XXX 

HOW    EPHRAIM    YEATES    PRAYED    FOR    HIS    ENEMIES 

However  much  or  little  the  Catawba  understood 
of  Richard  Jennifer's  grief  or  its  cause,  the  faithful 
Indian  had  a  thing  to  do  and  he  did  it,  loosing  his 
grasp  of  me  to  turn  and  fall  upon  Dick  with  pullings 
and  haulings  and  buffetings,  fit  to  bring  a  man  alive 
out  of  a  very  stiffening  rigor  of  despair. 

So,  in  a  hand-space  he  had  him  up,  and  we  were 
pressing  on  again,  in  midnight  darkness  once  we 
had  passed  beyond  the  light  of  our  grilling  fires. 
No  word  was  spoken;  under  the  impatient  urging 
of  the  Indian  there  was  little  breath  to  spare  for 
speech.  But  when  Richard's  afterthought  had  set 
its  fangs  in  him,  he  called  a  halt  and  would  not  be 
denied. 

"Go  on,  you  two,  if  you  are  set  upon  it,"  he  said. 
"I  must  go  back.  Bethink  you,  Jack;  what  if  she 
be  only  maimed  and  not  killed  outright.  'Tis  too 
horrible !  I'm  going  back,  I  say." 

The  Catawba  grunted  his  disgust. 

"Captain  Jennif  talk  fas';  no  run  fas'.  What 
think  ?  White  squaw  yonder — no  yonder,"  pointing 
324 


PRAYED    FOR   HIS   ENEMIES       325 

first  forward  and  then  back  in  the  direction  of  the 
stricken  camp. 

Richard  spun  around  and  gripped  the  Indian  by 
the  shoulders.  "Then  she  is  alive  and  safe?"  he 
burst  out.  "Speak,  friend,  whilst  I  leave  the  breath 
in  you  to  do  it !" 

"Ugh!"  said  the  chief,  in  nowise  moved  either 
by  Jennifer's  vehemence  or  by  the  dog-like  shake. 
"What  for  Captain  Jennif  think  papoose  thinks 
'bout  the  Gray  Wolf  and  poor  Injun?  Catch  um 
white  squaw  firs';  then  blow  um  up  Chelakee  camp 
and  catch  um  Captain  Jennif  and  Captain  Long- 
knife  if  can.  Heap  do  firs'  thing  firs',  and  las'  thing 
las'.  Wan!" 

It  was  the  longest  speech  this  devoted  ally  of 
ours  was  ever  known  to  make ;  and  having  made  it 
he  went  dumb  again  save  for  his  urgings  of  us 
forward.  But  presently  both  he  and  I  had  our 
hands  full  with  the  poor  lad.  The  swift  transition 
from  despair  to  joy  proved  too  much  for  Dick ; 
and,  besides,  the  fever  was  in  his  blood  and  he  was 
grievously  burned. 

So  we  went  stumbling  on  through  the  cloud- 
darkened  wood,  locked  arm  in  arm  like  three 
drunken  men,  tripping  over  root  snares  and  bramble 
nets  spread  for  our  feet,  and  getting  well  sprinkled 
by  the  dripping  foliage.  And  at  the  last,  when  we 
reached  the  ravine  at  the  valley's  head,  Dick  was 
muttering  in  the  fever  delirium  and  we  were  well- 
nigh  carrying  him  a  dead  weight  between  us. 

Twas  a  most  heart-breaking  business,  getting  the 


326       THE   MASTER   OF.  APPLEBY 

poor  lad  up  that  rock-ladder  of  escape  in  the  dark- 
ness; for  though  I  had  come  out  of  the  fire  with 
fewer  burns  than  the  roasting  of  me  warranted, 
the  battle  preceding  it  had  opened  the  old  sword 
wound  in  my  shoulder.  So,  taking  it  all  in  all,  I 
was  but  a  short-breathed  second  to  the  faithful 
Catawba. 

None  the  less,  we  tugged  it  through  after  some 
laborious  fashion,  and  were  glad  enough  when  the 
steep  ascent  gave  place  to  leveler  going,  and  we 
could  sniff  the  fragrance  of  the  plateau  pines  and 
feel  their  wire-like  needles  under  foot. 

By  this  the  shower  cloud  had  passed  and  the  stars 
were  coming  out,  but  it  was  still  pitch  black  under 
the  pines ;  so  dark  that  I  started  like  a  nervous 
woman  and  went  near  to  panic  when  a  horse  snorted 
at  my  very  ear,  and  a  voice,  bodiless,  as  it  seemed, 
said:  "Well,  now;  the  Lord  be  praised!  if  here 
ain't  the  whole  enduring — " 

What  Ephraim  Yeates  would  have  said,  or  did 
say,  was  lost  upon  me.  For  now  my  poor  Dick's 
strength  was  quite  spent,  and  when  the  chief  and  I 
were  easing  him  to  lie  full  length  upon  the  ground, 
there  was  a  quick  little  cry  out  of  the  darkness,  a 
swish  of  petticoats,  and  my  lady  darted  in  to 
fall  upon  Richard  in  a  very  transport  of  pity. 

"Oh,  my  poor  Dick!  they  have  killed  you!" 
she  sobbed;  "oh,  cruel,  cruel!"  Then  she  lashed 
out  at  us.  "Why  don't  you  strike  a  light?  How 
can  I  find  and  dress  his  hurts  in  the  dark  ?" 

"Your  pardon,  Mistress  Margery,"  I  said ;  "  'tis 


PRAYED   FOR   HIS   ENEMIES       '327 

only  that  the  fever  has  overcome  him.  He  has  no 
sore  hurts,  as  I  believe,  save  the  fire-scorching." 

"A  light !"  she  commanded ;  "I  must  have  a  light 
and  see  for  myself." 

We  had  to  humor  her,  though  it  was  something 
against  prudence.  Ephraim  found  dry  punk  in  a 
rotten  log,  and  firing  it  with  the  flint  and  steel  of  a 
great  king's  musket — one  of  his  reavings  from  the 
enemy — soon  had  a  pine-knot  torch  for  her.  She 
gave  it  to  the  Catawba  to  hold ;  and  while  she  was 
cooing  over  her  patient  and  binding  up  his  burns 
in  some  simples  gathered  near  at  hand  by  the  Indian, 
I  had  the  story  of  the  double  rescue  from  the  old 
hunter. 

Set  forth  in  brief,  that  which  had  come  as  a  mir- 
acle to  Dick  and  me  figured  as  a  daring  bit  of  strat- 
egy made  possible  by  the  emptying  of  the  Indian 
camp  at  our  torture  spectacle. 

Yeates  and  the  Catawba,  following  out  the  plan 
agreed  upon,  had  come  within  spying  distance  while 
yet  we  were  in  the  midst  of  that  hopeless  back-to- 
back  battle,  and  had  most  wisely  held  aloof.  But 
later,  when  every  Indian  of  the  Cherokee  band  was 
busy  at  our  torture  trees,  they  set  to  work. 

With  no  watch  to  give  the  alarm,  'twas  easy  to 
rifle  the  Indian  wigwams  of  the  firearms  and  ammu- 
nition. The  latter  they  threw  into  the  stream;  the 
muskets  they  loaded  and  trained  over  a  fallen  tree 
at  the  northern  edge  of  the  savanna,  bringing  them 
to  bear  pointblank  upon  the  light-horse  guard 
gathered  again  around  the  great  fire. 


328       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

The  next  step  was  the  cutting  out  of  the  women ; 
this  was  effected  whilst  the  baronet-captain  was 
paying  his  courtesy  call  on  us.  Like  the  looting  of 
the  Indian  camp,  'twas  quickly  planned  and  daringly 
done;  it  asked  but  the  quieting  of  the  two  trooper 
guards  on  the  forest  side  of  the  tepee-lodge,  a 
warning  word  to  Margery  and  her  woman,  and  a 
shadow-like  flitting  with  them  over  the  dead  bodies 
of  their  late  jailers  to  the  shelter  of  the  wood. 

Once  free  of  the  camp,  Yeates  had  hurried  his 
charges  to  a  place  of  temporary  safety  farther  up 
the  valley,  leaving  the  Catawba  to  cross  the  stream 
to  lay  a  train  of  dampened  powder  to  the  makeshift 
magazine.  When  he  had  hurried  the  women  to  a 
place  of  safety,  the  old  man  left  them  and  ran  back 
to  his  masked  battery  of  loaded  muskets.  Here,  at 
an  owl-cry  signal  from  Uncanoola,  he  opened  fire 
upon  the  redcoats. 

The  outworking  of  the  coup  de  main  was  a  tri- 
umph for  the  old  borderer's  shrewd  generalship. 
At  the  death-dealing  volley  the  Englishmen  were 
thrown  into  confusion;  whilst  the  Indians,  sum- 
moned by  the  firing  and  the  shrilling  of  the  captain's 
whistle,  dashed  blindly  into  the  trap.  At  the  right 
moment  Uncanoola  touched  off  his  powder  train 
and  cut  in  with  a  clear  field  for  his  rescue  of  Dick 
and  me. 

Of  the  complete  success  of  these  various  climax- 
ings,  Ephraim  Yeates  had  his  first  assurance  when 
we  three  came  safely  to  the  rendezvous ;  for,  after 
firing  his  masked  battery,  the  old  hunter  lost  no 


PRAYED    FOR   HIS    ENEMIES       329 

time  in  rejoining  the  women  and  in  hastening  with 
them  out  of  tHe  valley.  Had  these  three  been  afoot 
we  might  have  overtaken  them;  but  Yeates  had 
been  lucky  enough  to  stumble  upon  the  black  mare 
peacefully  cropping  the  grass  in  a  little  glade ;  and 
with  this  mount  for  Margery  and  her  tire-woman 
he  had  easily  outpaced  us. 

"All  this  I  had  from  Yeates  what  time  Margery 
was  pouring  the  wine  and  oil  of  womanly  sympathy 
into  Richard's  woundings ;  and  I  may  confess  that 
whilst  the  ear  was  listening  to  the  hunter's  tale,  the 
eye  was  taking  note  of  these  her  tender  ministra- 
tions, and  the  heart  was  setting  them  down  to  the 
score  of  a  great  love  which  would  not  be  denied. 
'Twas  altogether  as  I  would  have  had  it;  and  yet 
the  thought  came  unbidden  that  she  might  spare  a 
niggard  moment  and  the  breath  to  ask  me  how  I 
did.  And  because  she  would  not,  I  do  think  my 
burns  smarted  the  crueler. 

It  was  to  have  surcease  of  these  extra  smartings 
that  I  turned  my  back  upon  the  trio  under  the 
flaring  torch  and  took  up  with  Ephraim  Yeates  the 
pressing  question  of  the  moment. 

"As  I  take  it,  we  may  not  linger  here,"  I  said. 
"Have  you  marked  out  a  line  of  retreat  ?" 

The  old  borderer  was  busied  with  his  loot  of  the 
Indian  camp — 'twas  not  in  his  nature  to  come  off 
empty-handed,  however  hard  pressed  he  had  been 
for  time.  In  the  raffle  of  it,  guns  and  pistols, 
dressed  skins  and  warrior  finery,  he  came  upon  my 
good  old  blade  and  Richard's  great  claymore — 


330       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

trophies  claimed  by  the  head  men  of  the  CKerokees 
after  our  taking,  as  we  made  no  doubt. 

"Found  'em  hanging  in  the  lodge  that  usen  to 
belong  to  the  Great  Bear,"  said  tlie  hunter,  and 
then  with  grim  humor :  ''  'Lowed  to  keep  'em  to 
ricollect  ye  by  if  so  be  ye  was  foreordained  and  pre- 
destinated to  go  up  in  a  fiery  chariot,  like  the  good 
old  Elijah."  The  weapons  disposed  of,  he  made 
answer  to  my  query.  "Ez  for  making  tracks  im- 
mejitly,  if  not  sooner,  I  allow  there  ain't  no  two 
notions  about  that.  But  I'm  dad-daddled  if  I  know 
which-a-way  to  put  out,  Cap'n  John,  and  that's  the 
gospil  fact." 

"Why  not  strike  for  the  Great  Trace,  and  so  go 
back  the  way  the  powder  convoy  came  ?"  I  asked. 

It  could  be  done,  he  said,  but  the  hazard  was 
great.  'Twas  out  of  all  reason  to  hope  that  there 
were  no  survivors  left  in  the  sunken  valley  to  carry 
the  news  of  the  earthquake  massacre.  That  news 
once  cried  abroad  in  the  near-by  Cowee  Towns,  the 
entire  Tuckasege  nation  would  turn  out  to  run 
us  down.  Moreover,  the  avengers  would  look 
to  find  us  in  the  only  practicable  horse-path  leading 
eastward. 

"Ez  I'm  telling  you  right  now,  Cap'n  John,  we 
made  one  more  blunder  in  this  here  onfall  of 
our'n,  owin'  to  our  having  ne'er  a  seventh  son  of 
a  seventh  son  amongst  us  to  look  a  little  ways  ahead. 
Where  we  flashed  in  the  pan  was  in  not  making  our 
rendyvoo  down  yonder  where  you  and  Cap'n  Dick 
got  in.  Ever'  last  one  of  'em  able  to  crawl  is 


PRAYED    FOR   HIS   ENEMIES       331 

a-making  straight  for  that  crivvis  dodge-hole  right 
now,  and  if  we  was  there  we  could  do  'em  like  the 
Gileadites  did  the  men  o'  Ephraim  at  the  passages 
o'  the  Jordan." 

Fresh  as  I  was  from  the  torture  fire,  I  could  not 
forbear  a  shudder  at  this  old  man's  savagery. 

"Kill  them  in  cold  blood  ?"  I  would  say. 

"Anan?"  he  queried,  as  not  understanding  my 
point  of  view ;  and  I  let  the  matter  rest.  He  was  of 
those  who  slay  and  spare  not  where  an  enemy  is 
concerned. 

But  when  we  came  to  consider  of  it  there  seemed 
to  be  no  alternative  to  the  eastward  flitting  by  way 
of  the  Great  Trace.  To  the  west  and  south  there  was 
only  the  trackless  wilderness ;  and  to  the  north  no 
white  settlement  nearer  than  that  of  the  over-moun- 
tain folk  on  the  Watauga.  I  asked  if  we  might 
hope  to  reach  this. 

"  'Tis  a  long  fifty  mile  ez  the  crow  flies,  over 
e'enabout  the  mountainousest  patch  o'  land  that  ever 
laid  out  o'  doors,"  was  the  hunter's  reply.  "And 
there  ain't  ne'er  a  deer-track,  ez  I  knows  on,  to 
p'int  the  way." 

"Then  we  must  ride  eastward  and  run  the  risk 
of  pursuit  by  the  Tuckaseges,"  said  I. 

"Ez  I  reckon,  that's  about  the  long  and  short  of 
it.  And  I  do  everlastedly  despise  to  make  that 
poor  little  gal  jump  her  boss  and  ride  skimper- 
scamper  again,  when  she's  been  fair  living  a-horse- 
back  for  a  fortnight." 

"She  will  not  fail  you,"  I  ventured  to  say,  ad- 


332       THE   MASTER   OF  'APPLEBY, 

ding:  "But  Jennifer  is  in  poor  fettle  for  making 
speed." 

"It's  ride  or  be  skulped  for  him,  and  I  allow  he'll 
ride,"  quoth  the  old  hunter,  hastening  his  prepara- 
tions for  the  start.  "Reckon  we  can  get  him  on  a 
hoss  right  now." 

I  went  to  see.  Margery  rose  at  my  approach, 
and  even  in  the  poor  light  I  could  see  her  draw 
herself  up  as  if  she  would  hold  me  at  my  proper 
distance. 

"Your  patient,  Mistress  Margery, — We  must 
mount  and  ride  at  once.  Is  he  fit?" 

"No." 

"But  we  must  be  far  to  the  eastward  before  "day- 
break." 

"I  can  not  help  it.  If  you  make  him  ride  to- 
night you  will  finish  what  those  cruel  savages  be- 
gan, Captain  Ireton." 

"We  have  little  choice — none,  I  should  say." 

"Oh,  you  are  bitter  hard!"  she  cried,  though 
wherein  my  offending  lay  just  then  I  was  wholly 
at  a  loss  to  know. 

"  Tis  your  privilege  to  say  so,"  I  rejoined.  "But 
as  for  making  Dick  ride,  that  will  be  but  the  kindest 
cruelty.  We  are  only  a  little  way  from  the  nearest 
Indian  towns,  and  if  the  daylight  find  us  here — " 

"Spare  me,"  she  broke  in;  and  with  that  she 
turned  shortly  and  asked  Ephraim  Yeates  to  put 
her  in  her  saddle. 

Richard  was  still  in  the  fever  stupor,  but  he 
roused  himself  at  my  urging  and  let  us  set  him  upon 


PRAYED    FOR   HIS   ENEMIES       333 

his  beast.  Once  safe  in  the  saddle,  we  laslied  Him 
fast  like  a  prisoner,  with  a  forked  tree-branch  at 
his  back  to  hold  him  erect.  This  last  was  the  old 
hunter's  invention  and  'twas  most  ingenious.  The 
forked  limb,  in  shape  like  a  Y,  was  set  astride  the 
cantle,  with  the  lower  ends  thonged  stoutly  to 
Dick's  legs  and  to  the  girths.  Thus  the  upright  stem 
of  tKe  inverted  Y  became  an  easy  back-rest  for  the 
sick  man ;  and  when  he  was  securely  lashed  thereto 
there  was  little  danger  for  him  save  in  some  stumb- 
ling of  the  beast  he  rode. 

I  When  all  was  ready  we  had  first  to  find  our  way 
down  from  the  mountain  top;  and  now  even  the 
old  borderer  and  the  Indian  confessed  their  inabil- 
ity to  do  aught  but  retrace  their  steps  by  the  only 
route  they  knew:  namely,  by  that  ravine  which  we 
had  twice  traversed  in  daylight,  and  up  which  they 
had  led  the  captured  horses  in  the  dusk. 
;  This  route  promised  all  the  perils  of  a  gantlet- 
running,  since  by  it  we  must  take  the  risk  of  meeting 
the  fleeing  fugitives  from  the  convoy  camp,  if  the 
explosion  had  spared  any  fit  to  lift  and  carry  the 
vengeance-cry.  But  here  again  there  was  no  alter- 
native, and  we  set  us  in  order  for  the  descent,  with 
Yeates  and  the  Catawba  ahead,  the  women  and  Dick 
in  the  midst,  and  her  Apostolic  Majesty's  late 
captain  of  hussars,  masquerading  as  a  British 
trooper,  to  bring  on  the  rear. 

Once  in  motion  beneath  the  blue-black  shadows 
of  the  pines,  I  quickly  lost  all  sense  of  direction. 
After  we  had  ridden  in  wordless  silence  a  short 


334 

half  hour  or  less,  and  I  supposed  we  should  be 
nearing  the  head  of  our  descending  ravine,  our 
little  cavalcade  was  halted  suddenly  in  a  thickset 
grove  of  the  pines,  and  Ephraim  Yeates  appeared 
at  my  stirrup  to  say : 

"H'ist  ye  off  your  nag,  Cap'n  John,  and  let's  take 
a  far'well  squinch  at  the  inimy  whilst  we  can." 

"Where?  what  enemy?"  I  would  ask,  slipping 
from  the  saddle  at  his  word. 

"Why,  the  hoss-captain's  varmints,  to  be  sure; 
or  what-all  the  abomination  o'  desolation  has  left 
of  'em.  We  ain't  more  than  a  cat's  jump  from  the 
edge  o'  the  big  rock  where  we  first  sot  eyes  on  'em 
this  morning." 

I  saw  not  what  was  to  be  gained  by  any  such 
long-range  espial  in  the  darkness.  None  the  less, 
I  followed  the  old  man  to  the  cliff's  edge.  He  was 
wiser  in  his  forecastings  than  I  was  in  mine.  There 
was  a  thing  to  look  at,  and  light  enough  to  see  it 
by.  One  of  the  missile  stones,  it  seems,  had  crashed 
into  the  great  fire,  scattering  the  brands  in  all  direc- 
tions. The  pine-bough  troop  shelters  were  ablaze, 
and  creeping  serpents  of  fire  were  worming  their 
way  hither  and  yon  over  the  year-old  leaf  beds  in 
the  wood.  Ever  and  anon  some  pine  sapling  in 
the  path  of  these  fiery  serpents  would  go  up  in  a 
torch-like  flare;  and  so,  as  I  say,  there  was  light 
enough. 

What  we  looked  down  upon  was  not  inaptly  pic- 
tured out  by  Ephraim  Yeates's  Scripture  phrase, 
the  abomination  of  desolation.  Every  vestige  of  the 


PRAYED   FOR   HIS   ENEMIES       335 

camp  save  the  glowing  skeletons  of  the  troop  shel- 
ters had  disappeared,  and  the  swarded  sa- 
vanna was  become  a  blackened  chaos-blot  on  the 
fair  woodland  scene.  I  have  said  that  the  powder- 
sheltering  boulder  was  a  cliff  for  size;  the  mighty 
upheaval  of  the  explosion  had  toppled  it  in  ruins 
into  the  stream,  and  huge  fragments  the  bigness  of 
a  wine-butt  had  been  hurled  with  the  storm  of 
lighter  debris  broadcast  upon  the  camp. 

At  first  we  saw  no  sign  of  life  in  all  the  firelit 
space.  But  a  moment  later,  when  three  or  four  of 
the  sapling  torches  blazed  up  together,  we  made 
out  some  half  dozen  figures  of  human  beings — 
whether  red  or  white  we  could  not  tell — stumbling 
and  reeling  about  among  the  rocks  like  blind  men 
drunken. 

At  sight  of  these  the  old  hunter  doffed  his  cap 
and  fell  upon  his  knees  with  hands  uplifted  to  pour 
out  his  zealot's  soul  in  the  awful  sentences  of  the 
Psalmist's  imprecation. 

''  'Let  God  arise,  and  let  His  inimies  be  scattered ; 
let  them  also  that  hate  Him  flee  before  Him.  Like 
as  the  smoke  vanisheth,  so  shalt  thou  drive  them 
away ;  and  like  as  the  wax  melteth  at  the  fire,  so  let 
the  ungodly  perish  at  the  presence  of  God  .  .  . ' ' 


XXXI 

IN   WHICH    WE    MAKE   A   FORCED   MARCH 

It  could  have  been  but  little  short  of  midnight 
when  we  came  down  into  the  Great  Trace  near  the 
ambush  ground  where  we  had  set  our  trap  for  the 
peace  men. 

The  night  had  cleared  most  beautifully,  and  over- 
head the  stars  were  burning  like  points  of  white 
fire  in  the  black  dome  of  the  heavens.  .As  often 
happens  after  a  shower,  the  night  shrillings  of  the 
forest  were  in  fullest  tide ;  and  a  whip-will's-widow, 
disturbed  by  our  approach,  fluttered  to  a  higher 
perch  and  set  up  his  plaintive  protest. 

At  our  turning  eastward  on  the  trace,  the  old  hun- 
ter massed  our  little  company  as  compactly  as  the 
path  allowed,  and  giving  us  the  word  to  follow 
cautiously,  tossed  his  bridle  rein  to  the  Catawba 
and  went  on  ahead  to  feel  out  the  way. 

This  rearrangement  set  me  to  ride  abreast  with 
Margery;  and  for  the  first  time  since  that  fateful 
night  in  the  upper  room  at  Appleby  Hundred  we 
were  together  and  measurably  alone. 

Since  death  might  be  lying  in  wait  for  us  at  any 
336 


WE   MAKE   A   FORCED   MARCH     337 

turn  in  the  winding  bridle-path,  I  had  no  mind  to 
break  the  strained  silence.  But,  womanlike,  she 
would  not  miss  the  chance  to  thrust  at  me. 

"Are  you  not  afire  with  shame,  Captain  Ireton?" 
she  said,  bitterly;  and  then:  "How  you  must  de- 
spise me !" 

I  knew  not  what  she  meant ;  but  being  most  anx- 
ious for  her  safety,  I  begged  her  not  to  talk,  put- 
ting it  all  upon  the  risk  we  ran  in  passing  the 
outlet  of  the  sunken  valley.  Now,  as  you  have  long 
since  learned,  my  tongue  was  but  a  skilless  servant ; 
and  though  I  sought  to  make  the  command  the  gen- 
tlest plea,  she  took  instant  umbrage  and  struck  back 
smartly. 

"You  need  not  make  the  danger  an  excuse.  I 
will  be  still;  and  when  I  speak  to  you  again,  you 
will  be  willing  enough  to  hear  me,  I  promise  you !" 

"Nay,  then,  dear  lady;  you  must  not  take  it 
so !"  I  protested.  "  Tis  my  misfortune  to  be  ever 
blundering." 

But  to  this  she  gave  me  no  answer  at  all ;  and 
barring  a  word  or  two  of  heartening  for  her  serving 
woman,  she  never  opened  her  lips  again  throughout 
the  passage  perilous. 

By  good  hap  we  came  to  the  crossing  of  the  cavern 
stream  without  meeting  any  foeman ;  and  on  the 
farther  side  of  the  shallow  ford  we  found  the  old 
borderer  awaiting  us. 

"Ez  I  allow,  we've  smelt  the  bait  in  the  trap  and 
come  off  with  whole  bones,  like  Shadrach,  Meshach 
and  Abednego,"  he  said,  mixing  metaphor,  Scrip- 


338       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

ture  phrase  and  frontier  idiom  as  was  his  wont. 
Then  he  put  a  leg  over  his  horse  and  gave  the  stir- 
rup-word: "From  now  on,  old  Jehu,  the  son  o' 
Nimshi,  is  the  hoss-whipper  we've  got  to  beat.  Get 
ye  behind,  Cap'n  John,  and  give  the  hoss  that  lags 
a  half  inch  'r  so  of  your  sword-p'int." 

Then  and  there  began  a  night  flight  long  to  be 
remembered.  Down  the  valley  of  the  swift  river 
to  the  ford  where  Yeates  and  I  had  crossed  after 
the  mock  rescue  of  Margery  the  night  before,  we 
let  the  horses  pick  the  way  as  they  could.  But 
once  beyond  the  ford,  where  the  trace  was  wider 
and  the  footing  less  precarious,  we  plied  whip  and 
spur,  pushing  the  saddle-beasts  for  every  stride  we 
could  get  out  of  them  in  the  blind  race. 

I  have  marveled  often  that  we  came  not  once  to 
grief  in  all  this  long  night-gallop  through  the  dark- 
ness. There  was  every  chance  for  it.  The  over- 
arching trees  of  the  great  forest  shut  out  all  the 
starlight,  and  the  trace  was  no  more  than  a  bridle- 
path, rougher  than  any  cart  road.  Yet  we  held  the 
breakneck  pace  steadily,  save  for  the  time  it  took 
to  thread  some  steep  defile  to  a  stream  cross- 
ing, or  to  scramble  up  its  fellow  on  the  oppo- 
site side ;  and  when  the  dawn  began  to  gray  in  the 
sky  ahead,  we  were  well  out  of  the  broken  mountain 
region  and  into  the  opener  forest  of  the  hill  coun- 
try. 

The  sun  was  yet  below  the  eastern  horizon  when 
we  came  to  the  fording  of  a  larger  stream  than  any 
we  had  crossed  in  the  night.  Its  course  was  toward 


WE    MAKE   A    FORCED    MARCH     339 

the  sunrise,  hence  I  took  it  for  some  tributary  of 
the  Catawba  or  the  Broad. 

"  Tis  the  Broad  itself,"  said  Ephraim  Yeates,  in 
answer  to  my  asking;  "and  yit  it  ain't;  leastwise, 
it  ain't  the  one  you  know.  'Tis  the  one  the  Parley- 
voos  claimed  in  the  old  war,  and  they  call  it  the 
Frinch  Broad." 

"But  that  flows  north  and  westward,  if  I  remem- 
ber aright,"  said  I. 

"So  it  do,  so  it  do — in  gineral.  But  hereabouts 
'twill  run  all  ways  for  Sunday,  by  spells." 

"If  this  be  the  French  Broad  we  are  not  yet  out 
of  the  Tuckasege  country,  as  I  take  it." 

"Mighty  nigh  to  it;  nigh  enough  to  make  camp 
for  a  resting  spell.  I  reckon  ye're  a-needing  that 
same  pretty  toler'ble  bad,  ain't  ye,  little  gal?"  this 
last  to  Margery. 

Weary  as  she  was  she  smiled  upon  him  brightly, 
as  though  he  had  been  her  grandsire  and  so  free 
to  name  her  how  he  pleased. 

"I  shall  sleep  well  when  we  are  out  of  danger. 
But  you  must  not  stop  for  me,  or  for  Jeanne,  till 
'tis  safe  to  do  so." 

"Safe  ?  Lord  love  ye,  child !  'safe'  is  a  word  be- 
yond us  yit,  and  will  be  till  we  sot  ye  down  on  your 
daddy's  door-stone.  But  we'll  make  out  to  give  ye 
a  bite  and  sup  and  forty  winks  o'  sleep  immejitly,  if 
not  sooner,  now." 

So,  on  the  farther  side  of  the  stream  the  hunter 
led  the  way  aside,  and  when  we  were  come  to  a 
small  meadow  glade  with  good  grazing  for  the 


340       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

horses,  he  called  a  halt,  lifted  the  women  from  their 
saddles  and  came  to  help  me  ease  Dick  down.  The 
poor  lad  was  stiff  and  sore,  having  no  more  use  of 
his  joints  than  if  he  were  a  bandaged  mummy ;  but 
the  fever  delirium  had  passed  and  he  was  able  to 
laugh  feebly  at  the  tree-limb  contrivance  rigged  to 
hold  him  in  the  saddle. 

"How  did  we  come  out  of  it,  Jack?"  he  asked; 
when  we  had  let  him  feel  the  comfort  of  lying  flat 
upon  his  back  on  the  soft  sward. 

"As  you  see.  We  are  all  here,  and  all  in  fair 
fettle,  saving  yourself.  You're  the  heaviest  loser." 

He  smiled,  and  his  eyes  languid  with  the  fever 
sought  out  Margery,  who  would  not  come  anigh 
whilst  I  was  with  him. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,  Jack.  If  my  dream 
comes  true,  I  shall  be  the  richest  gainer." 

"What  did  you  dream  ?" 

He  beckoned  me  to  bend  lower  over  him.  "I 
dreamed  I  was  sore  hurt,  and  that  she  was  bind- 
ing up  my  bruises  and  crying  over  me." 

"  'Twas  no  dream,"  I  said ;  and  with  that  I  went 
to  help  Yeates  make  a  bough  shelter  for  the  women 
while  Uncanoola  was  grinding  the  maize  for  the 
breakfast  cakes. 

'Tis  not  my  purpose  to  weary  you  with  a  day-by- 
day  accounting  for  all  that  befell  us  on  the  way  back 
to  Mecklenburg.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  we  ate  and 
slept  and  rose  to  mount  and  ride  again ;  this  for 
five  days  and  nights,  during  which  Jennifer's  fever 
grew  upon  him  steadily. 


WE    MAKE   A    FORCED    MARCH     341 

At  the  close  of  the  fifth  day  our  night  halt  was  in 
a  deserted  log  cabin  at  the  edge  of  an  unfinished 
clearing  in  the  heart  of  the  forest.  Here  Richard's 
sickness  anchored  us,  and  for  three  full  weeks  the 
journey  paused. 

.  We  nursed  the  lad  as  best  we  could  for  a  fort- 
night, dosing  him  with  stewings  of  such  roots  and 
herbs  as  the  Catawba  could  find  in  the  wood.  Then, 
when  we  were  at  our  wits'  ends,  and  Yeates  and  I 
were  casting  about  how  we  could  compass  the  bring- 
ing of  a  doctor  from  the  settlements,  the  fever  took 
a  turn  for  the  better, — of  its  own  accord,  or  for  Un- 
canoola's  physickings,  we  knew  not  which, — and  at 
the  end  of  the  third  week  Dick  was  up  and  able  to 
ride  again,  this  time  without  the  forked  stick  to 
hold  him  in  the  saddle. 

•  After  this  we  went  on  without  mishap,  and  with" 
no  hardship  greater  than  that  of  living  solely  upon 
the  meat  victual  provided  by  the  hunter's  rifle ;  and 
you  who  know  this  plough-dressed  region  at  this 
later  day  will  wonder  when  I  write  it  down  that  in 
all  that  long  faring,  or  rather  to  the  last  day's  stage 
of  it,  we  saw  never  a  face  of  any  of  our  kind,  or  of 
the  Catawba's. 

You  may  be  sure  the  month  or  more  we  spent 
thus  in  the  heart  of  the  wildwood  was  but  a  sorry 
time  for  me.  While  the  excitement  of  the  pursuit 
and  rescue  lasted,  and  later,  when  anxiety  for  Rich- 
ard filled  the  hours  of  the  long  days  and  nights, 
I  was  held  a  little  back  from  slipping  into  that  pit 
of  despair  which  I  had  digged  for  myself. 


342 

But  when  the  strain  was  off  and  Dick  was  up 
and  fit  again,  the  misery  of  it  all  came  back  with 
added  goadings.  I  had  never  dreamed  how  cutting 
sharp  'twould  be  to  see  these  two  together  day 
by  day ;  to  see  her  loving,  tender  care  of  him,  and  to 
hear  him  babble  of  his  love  for  her  in  his  feverish 
vaporings.  Yet  all  this  I  must  endure,  and  with  it 
a  thing  even  harder.  For,  to  make  it  worse,  if 
worse  could  be,  the  shadow  of  complete  estrange- 
ment had  fallen  between  Margery  and  me.  True 
to  her  word,  given  in  that  moment  when  I  had  be- 
sought her  not  to  speak  aloud  for  her  own  safety's 
sake,  she  had  never  opened  her  lips  to  me ;  and  for 
aught  she  said  or  did  I  might  have  been  a  deaf-mute 
slave  beneath  her  notice. 

And  as  she  drew  away  from  me,  she  seemed  to 
draw  the  closer  to  Richard  Jennifer,  nursing  him 
alive  when  he  was  at  his  worst,  and  giving  him  all 
the  womanly  care  and  sympathy  a  sick  man  longs 
for.  And  later,  when  he  was  fit  to  ride  again,  she 
had  him  always  at  her  side  in  the  onward  faring. 

As  I  have  said  before,  this  was  all  as  I  would 
have  it.  Yet  it  made  me  sick  in  my  soul's  soul ; 
and  at  times  I  must  needs  fall  behind  to  rave  it 
out  in  solitude,  cursing  the  day  that  I  was  born, 
and  that  other  more  misfortunate  day  when  I  had 
reared  the  barrier  impassable  between  these  two. 

What  wonder,  then,  that,  as  we  neared  the  fight- 
ing field  of  the  great  war,  I  grew  more  set  upon 
seizing  the  first  chance  that  might  offer  an  honorable 
escape  from  all  these  heartburnings?  'Twas  a 


WE   MAKE  A   FORCED   MARCH     343 

weakness,  if  you  choose;  I  set  down  here  naught 
but  the  simple  fact,  which  had  by  now  gone  as  far 
beyond  excusings  as  the  underlying  cause  of  it  was 
beyond  forgiveness. 

'Twas  on  the  final  day,  the  day  when  we  were 
riding  tantivy  to  reach  Queensborough  by  evening, 
that  my  deliverance  came.  I  say  deliverance  be- 
cause at  the  moment  it  had  the  look  of  a  short  shrift 
and  a  ready  halter. 

We  had  crossed  our  own  Catawba  and  were  put- 
ting our  horses  at  the  steep  bank  on  the  outcoming 
side,  when  my  saddle  slipped.  Dismounting  to 
tighten  the  girth,  I  called  to  the  others  to  press  on, 
saying  I  should  overtake  them  shortly. 

The  promise  was  never  kept.  I  scarce  had  my 
head  under  the  saddle  flap  before  a  couple  of  stout 
knaves  in  homespun,  appearing  from  I  know  not 
where,  had  me  fast  gripped  by  the  arms,  whilst  a 
third  made  sure  of  the  horse. 

"A  despatch  rider,"  said  the  bigger  of  the  two 
who  pinioned  me.  "Search  him,  Martin,  lad,  whilst 
I  hold  him;  then  we'll  pay  him  out  for  Tarleton's 
hanging  of  poor  Sandy  M'Guire." 

I  held  my  peace  and  let  them  search,  taking  the 
threat  for  a  bit  of  soldier  bullyragging  meant  to 
keep  me  quiet.  But  when  they  had  turned  the  pock- 
ets of  my  borrowed  coat  inside  out  and  ripped  the 
lining  and  made  it  otherwise  as  much  the  worse 
for  their  mishandling  as  it  was  for  wear,  the  third 
man  fetched  a  rope. 

"Did  you  mean  that,  friend? — about  the  hang- 


344       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

ing?"  I  asked,  wondering  if  this  should  be  my 
loophole  of  escape  from  the  life  grown  hateful. 

"Sure  enough,"  said  the  big  man,  coolly.  "You'd 
best  be  saying  your  prayers." 

I  laughed.  "Were  you  wearing  my  coat  and  I 
yours,  you  might  hang  me  and  welcome;  in  truth, 
you  may  as  it  is.  Which  tree  will  you  have  me  at  ?" 

The  man  stared  at  me  as  at  one  demented.  Then 
he  burst  out  in  a  guffaw.  "Damme,  if  you  bean't  a 
cool  plucked  one!  I've  a  mind  to  take  you  to  the 
colonel." 

"Don't  do  it,  my  friend.  Though  I  am  something 
loath  to  be  snuffed  out  by  the  men  of  my  own  side, 
we  need  not  haggle  over  the  niceties.  Point  out 
your  tree." 

"No,  by  God !  you're  too  willing.  What's  at  the 
back  of  all  this?" 

"Nothing,  save  a  decent  reluctance  to  spoil  your 
sport.  Have  at  it,  man,  and  let's  be  done  with  it." 

"Not  if  you  beg  me  on  your  knees.  You'll  go 
to  the  colonel,  I  say,  and  he  may  hang  you  if  he 
sees  fit.  You  must  be  a  most  damnable  villain  to 
want  to  die  by  the  first  rope  you  lay  eyes  on." 

"That  is  as  it  may  be.    Who  is  your  colonel  ?" 

"Nay,  rather,  who  are  you  ?" 

I  gave  my  name  and  circumstance  and  was  loosed 
of  the  hand-grip,  though  the  third  man  dropped  the 
cord  and  stepped  back  to  hold  me  covered  with  his 
rifle. 

"An  Ireton,  you  say  ?    Not  little  Jock,  surely !" 

"No,  big  Jock;  big  enough  to  lay  you  on  your 


345 

back,  though  you  do  have  a  hand  as  thick  as  a 
ham." 

He  ignored  the  challenge  and  stuck  to  his  text. 
"I  never  thought  to  see  the  son  of  old  Mad-bull 
Roger  wearing  a  red  coat,"  he  said. 

"That  is  nothing.  Many  as  good  a  Whig  as  I 
am  has  been  forced  to  wear  a  red  coat  ere  this,  or 
go  barebacked.  But  why  don't  you  knot  the  halter  ? 
In  common  justice  you  should  either  hang  me  or 
feed  me.  Tis  hard  upon  noon,  and  I  breakfasted 
early." 

"Fall  in  !"  said  the  big  man ;  and  so  I  was  marched 
quickly  aside  from  the  road  and  into  the  denser 
thicketing  of  the  wood.  Here  my  captors  blind- 
folded me,  and  after  spinning  me  around  to  make 
me  lose  the  compass  points,  hurried  me  away  to 
their  encampment  which  was  inland  from  the  stream, 
though  not  far,  for  I  could  still  hear  the  distance- 
minished  splashing  of  the  water. 

When  the  kerchief  was  pulled  from  my  eyes  I 
was  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  mounted  riflemen's 
halt-camp,  face  to  face  with  a  young  officer  wear- 
ing the  uniform  of  the  colonelcy  in  the  North  Caro- 
lina home  troops.  He  was  a  handsome  young  fel- 
low, with  curling  hair  and  trim  side-whiskers  to 
frame  a  face  fine-lined  and  eager — the  face  of  a 
gentleman  well-born  and  well-bred. 

"Captain  Ireton?"  he  said;  by  which  I  guessed 
that  one  of  my  capturers  had  run  on  ahead  to  make 
report. 

"The  same,"  I  replied. 


346       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"And  you  are  the  son  of  Mr.  Justice  Roger  Ire- 
ton,  of  Appleby  Hundred?" 

"I  have  that  honor." 

He  gave  me  his  hand  most  cordially. 

"You  are  very  welcome,  Captain;  Davie  is  my 
name.  I  trust  we  may  come  to  know  each  other 
better.  You  are  in  disguise,  as  I  take  it;  do  you 
bring  news  of  the  army  ?" 

"On  the  contrary,  I  am  thirsting  for  news,"  I 
rejoined.  "I  and  three  others  have  but  now  re- 
turned from  pursuing  a  British  and  Indian  powder 
convoy  into  the  mountains  to  the  westward.  We 
have  been  out  five  weeks  and  more." 

He  looked  at  me  curiously.  "You  and  three 
others?"  he  queried.  "Come  apart  and  tell  me 
about  it  whilst  Pompey  is  broiling  the  venison.  I 
scent  a  whole  Iliad  in  that  word  of  yours,  Captain 
Ireton." 

"One  thing  first,  if  you  please,  Colonel  Davie," 
I  begged.  "My  companions  are  faring  forward  on 
the  road  to  Queensborough.  They  know  naught 
of  my  detention.  Will  you  send  a  man  to  overtake 
them  with  a  note  from  me  ?" 

The  colonel  indulged  me  in  the  most  gentlemanly 
manner;  and  when  my  note  to  Jennifer  was  de- 
spatched we  sat  together  at  the  roots  of  a  great  oak 
and  I  told  him  all  that  had  befallen  our  little  rescue 
party.  He  heard  me  through  patiently,  and  when 
the  tale  was  ended  was  good  enough  to  say  that  I 
had  earned  a  commission  for  my  part  in  the  affair. 


WE    MAKE   A    FORCED    MARCH     347 

I  laughed  and  promptly  shifted  that  burden  to 
Ephraim  Yeates's  shoulders. 

"The  old  hunter  was  our  general,  Colonel  Davie. 
He  did  all  of  the  planning  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  executing.  But  for  him  and  the  friendly 
Catawba,  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  Jennifer 
and  me." 

"I  fear  you  are  over-modest,  Captain/'  was  all 
the  reply  I  got ;  and  then  my  kindly  host  fell  amuse. 
When  he  spoke  again  'twas  to  give  me  a  resume 
in  brief  of  the  military  operations  North  and  South. 

At  the  North,  as  his  news  ran,  affairs  remained  as 
they  had  been,  save  that  now  the  French  king  had 
sent  an  army  to  supplement  the  fleet,  and  Count 
Rochambeau  and  the  allies  were  encamped  on  Rhode 
Island  ready  to  take  the  field. 

In  the  South  the  distressful  situation  we  had  left 
behind  us  on  that  August  Sunday  following  the 
disastrous  battle  of  Camden  was  but  little  changed. 
General  Gates,  with  the  scantiest  following,  had 
hastened  first  to  Salisbury  and  later  to  Hillsborough, 
and  had  since  been  busy  striving  to  reassemble  his 
scattered  forces. 

A  few  military  partizans,  like  my  host,  had  kept 
the  field,  doing  what  the  few  might  against  the 
many  to  retard  my  Lord  Cornwallis's  northward 
march ;  and  a  week  earlier  the  colonel  with  his  hand- 
ful of  mounted  riflemen  had  dared  to  oppose  his 
entry  into  Charlotte. 

"  'Twas  no  more  than  a  hint  to  his  Lordship  that 


348       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

we  were  not  afraid  of  him,"  said  my  doughty  colo- 
nel. "You  know  the  town,  I  take  it  ?" 

"Very  well,  indeed." 

"Well,  we  had  harassed  him  all  the  way  from 
Blair's  Mill,  and  'twas  midnight  when  we  reached 
Charlotte.  There  wre  determined  to  make  a  stand 
and  give  him  a  taste  of  our  mettle.  We  dis- 
mounted, took  post  behind  the  stone  wall  of  tKe 
court  house  green  and  under  cover  of  the  fences 
along  the  road." 

"Good !  an  ambush,"  said  I. 

"Hardly  that,  since  they  were  looking  to  have  re- 
sistance. Tarleton  was  sick,  and  Major  Hanger 
commanded  the  British  van.  He  charged,  and  we 
peppered  them  smartly.  They  tried  it  again,  and 
this  time  their  infantry  outflanked  us.  We  aban- 
doned the  court  house  and  formed  again  in  the 
eastern  edge  of  the  town ;  and  now,  bless  you !  'twas 
my  Lord  Charles  himself  who  had  to  ride  forward 
and  flout  at  his  men  for  their  want  of  enterprise." 

"But  you  could  never  hope  to  hold  on  against 
such  odds !"  I  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  no;  but  we  held  them  for  a  third  charge, 
and  beat  them  back,  too.  Then  they  brought  up 
two  more  regiments  and  we  mounted  and  got  off 
in  tolerably  good  order,  losing  only  six  men  killed. 
But  Colonel  Francis  Locke  was  one  of  these ;  and 
my  brave  Joe  Graham  was  all  but  cut  to  pieces — 
a  sore  blow  to  us  just  now." 

The  colonel  sighed  and  a  silence  fell  upon  us. 


WE   MAKE   A   FORCED   MARCH     349 

'Twas  I  who  broke  it  to  say:  "Then  we  are  still 
playing  a  losing  hand  in  the  South,  as  I  take  it  ?" 

"  Tis  worse  than  that.  As  the  game  stands  we 
have  played  all  our  trumps  and  have  not  so  much  as 
a  long  suit  left.  Cornwallis  will  go  on  as  he  pleases 
and  overrun  the  state,  and  the  militia  will  never 
stand  to  front  him  again  under  Horatio  Gates. 
Worse  still,  Ferguson  is  off  to  the  westward,  em- 
bodying the  Tories  by  the  hundred,  and  we  shall 
have  burnings  and  hangings  and  harryings  to  the 
king's  taste." 

I  nursed  my  knee  a  moment  and  then  said: 
"What  may  one  man  do  to  help,  Colonel  Davie  ?" 

He  looked  up  quickly.  "Much,  if  you  are  that 
man,  and  you  do  not  value  your  life  too  highly, 
Captain  Ireton." 

"You  may  leave  that  out  of  the  question,"  said 
I.  "I  shall  count  it  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life 
when  I  shall  have  done  something  worth  their 
killing  me  for." 

Again  he  gave  me  that  curious  look  I  had  noted 
before.  Then  he  laughed. 

"If  you  were  as  young  as  Major  Joe  Graham, 
and  had  been  well  crossed  in  love,  I  could  under- 
stand you  better,  Captain.  But,  jesting  aside, 
there  is  a  thing  to  do,  and  you  are  the  man  to  do  it. 
Our  spies  are  thick  in  Cornwallis's  camp,  but  what 
is  needed  is  some  master  spirit  who  can  plot  as 
well  as  spy  for  us.  Major  Ferguson  moves  as  Corn- 
wallis pulls  the  strings.  Could  we  know  the  major's 


350       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

instructions  and  designs,  we  might  cut  him  off, 
bring  the  Tory  uprising  to  the  ground,  and  so 
hearten  the  country  beyond  measure.  I  say  we 
might  cut  him  off,  though  I  know  not  where  the 
men  would  come  from  to  do  it." 

"Well  ?"  said  I,  when  he  paused. 

"The  preliminary  is  some  better  information  than 
our  spies  can  give  us.  Now  you  have  been  an 
officer  in  the  British  service,  and — " 

I  smiled.  "Truly;  and  I  have  the  honor,  if  you 
please  to  call  it  so,  of  his  Lordship's  acquaintance. 
Also,  I  have  that  of  Colonel  Tarleton  and  the  mem- 
bers of  his  staff,  the  same  having  tried  and  con- 
demned me  as  a  spy  at  Appleby  Hundred  some  few 
weeks  before  this  chase  I  have  told  you  of." 

His  face  fell.  "Then,  of  course,  it  is  out  of  the 
question  for  you  to  show  yourself  in  Cornwallis's 
headquarters." 

I  rose  and  buttoned  my  borrowed  coat. 

"On  the  contrary,  Colonel  Davie,  I  am  more  than 
ever  at  your  service.  Let  me  have  a  cut  of  your 
venison  and  a  feed  for  my  horse,  and  I  shall  be  at 
my  Lord's  headquarters  as  soon  as  the  nag  can 
carry  me  there." 


XXXII 

IN  WHICH  I  AM  BEDDED  IN  A  GARRET 

"  Tis  a  very  pretty  hazard,  Captain  Ireton.  But 
can  it  be  brought  off  successfully,  think  you  ?" 

"As  I  have  said,  it  hangs  somewhat  upon  the 
safety  of  my  portmanteau.  If  that  has  come  through 
unseized  to  Mr.  Pettigrew  at  Charlotte,  and  I  can 
lay  hands  on  it,  'twill  be  half  the  battle." 

"You  say  you  left  it  behind  you  at  New  Berne?" 
"Yes ;  Mr.  Carey  was  to  forward  it  as  he  could." 
Colonel  Davie  had  given  me  bite  and  sup,  and 
I  was  ready  to  take  the  road.  My  plan,  such  as  it 
was,  had  been  determined  upon,  and  to  the  further- 
ing of  it,  the  colonel  had  written  me  a  letter  to  a 
friend  in  the  town  who  might  shelter  me  for  a  night 
and  make  the  needed  inquiry  for  my  belongings. 
Also,  he  had  given  me  another  letter,  of  which  more 
anon,  and  had  pressed  upon  me  a  small  purse  of 
gold  pieces — a  treasure  rare  enough  in  patriot 
hands  in  that  impoverished  time. 

When  all  was  done,  two  of  my  late  captors  were 
ordered  to  set  me  straight  in  the  road;  and  some 
half-hour  past  noon  I  had  shaken  hands  with  the 
351 


352       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

big  fellow  in  homespun  who  had  been  so  bent  upon 
hanging  me  without  benefit  of  clergy,  had  crossed 
the  river,  and  was  making  the  first  looping  in  a 
detour  which  should  bring  me  into  Charlotte  from 
the  westward. 

'Twas  drawing  on  toward  evening,  and  I  had 
recrossed  the  river  a  mile  or  more  below  Appleby 
Hundred,  when  I  began  to  meet  the  outposts  of 
the  British  army.  I  was  promptly  halted  by  the 
first  of  these ;  but  my  borrowed  uniform  and  a  ready 
word  or  two  passed  me  within  the  lines  as  a  courier 
riding  post  to  headquarters  from  Major  Ferguson 
in  the  west. 

The  lieutenant  in  command  of  the  first  vedette 
line  was  not  over-curious.  He  asked  me  a  few  ques- 
tions about  the  major's  plans  and  dispositions, — 
questions  which,  thanks  to  Colonel  Davie's  informa- 
tion, I  was  able  to  answer  glibly  enough,  swal- 
lowed my  tale  whole,  and  was  so  obliging  as  to  give 
me  the  password  for  the  night  to  help  me  through 
the  inner  sentry  lines. 

Thus  fortified,  I  rode  on  boldly,  and  having  the 
countersign  the  difficulties  vanished.  When  I  was 
come  to  town  it  was  well  past  candle-lighting;  and 
the  patrol  was  out  in  force.  But  by  dint  of  using 
the  password  freely  I  made  my  way  unhindered  to 
the  house  of  the  gentleman  to  whom  Colonel  Davie's 
letter  accredited  me. 

Here,  however,  the  difficulties  began.  Though 
the  camp  of  the  army  lay  just  without  the  town  to 
the  southward,  the  officers  were  quartered  in  every 


BEDDED   IN   A   GARRET  353 

house,  and  that  of  Colonel  Davie's  friend  was  full 
to  overflowing.  What  was  to  be  done  we  knew  not, 
but  at  the  last  moment  my  friend's  friend  thought 
of  an  expedient  and  wrote  a  note  for  me  whilst  I 
waited,  half  in  hiding,  in  the  outer  hall. 

"  Tis  a  desperate  chance,  but  these  are  desperate 
times,"  said  my  would-be  helper.  "I  am  sending 
you  to  the  town  house  of  one  of  our  plantation 
seigneurs — a  man  who  is  fish,  flesh  or  fowl,  as  his 
interest  demands.  I  hear  he  came  in  to-day  to  take 
protection,  and  there  is  a  chance  that  he  will  shelter 
you  for  the  sake  of  your  red  coat  and  a  gold  piece 
or  two.  But  I  warn  you,  you  must  be  what  you 
appear  to  be — a  soldier  of  the  king— and  not  what 
this  note  of  Colonel  Davie's  says  you  are." 

Seeing  a  wide  field  of  danger-chances  in  this 
haphazarding,  I  would  have  asked  more  about  this 
trimming  gentleman  to  whom  I  was  to  be  handed 
on;  but  at  that  moment  there  came  a  thundering 
at  the  door,  and  my  anxious  host  was  fain  to  hustle 
me  out  through  the  kitchen  as  he  could,  catching  up 
a  black  boy  on  the  way  to  be  my  guide. 

"God  speed  you,"  he  said  at  parting.  "Make 
your  footing  good  for  the  night,  if  you  can,  and 
we'll  see  what  can  be  done  to-morrow.  I'll  send 
your  portmanteau  around  in  the  morning,  if  so  be 
Mr.  Pettigrew  has  it." 

With  that  I  was  out  in  the  night  again,  turning 
and  doubling  after  my  guide,  who  seemed  to  be 
greatly  afeard  lest  I  should  come  nigh  enough  to 
cast  an  evil  eye  upon  him. 


354       THE   MASTER  .OF  APPLEBY, 

'Twas  but  a  little  distance  we  had  to  go,  and  I 
had  no  word  out  of  my  black  rascal  till  we  reached 
the  door-stone  of  a  familiar  mansion  but  one  remove 
from  the  corner  of  the  court  house  green.  Here, 
with  a  stuttering  "D-d-dis  de  house,  Massa,"  he 
fled  and  left  me  to  enter  as  I  could. 

Since  the  street  was  busily  astir  with  redcoat 
officers  and  men  coming  and  going,  and  any  squad 
of  these  might  be  the  questioners  to  doubt  my 
threadbare  courier  tale,  I  lost  no  time  in  running 
up  the  steps  and  hammering  a  peal  with  the  heavy 
knocker.  Through  the  side-lights  I  could  see  that 
the  wide  entrance  hall  was  for  the  moment  unoccu- 
pied; but  at  the  knocker-lifting  I  had  a  flitting 
glimpse  of  some  one — a  little  man  all  in  sober  black 
— coming  down  the  stair.  There  was  no  immediate 
answer  to  my  peal,  but  when  I  would  have  knocked 
again  the  door  was  swung  back  and  I  stepped 
quickly  within  to  find  myself  face  to  face  with — 
Margery. 

I  know  not  which  of  the  two  of  us  was  the  more 
dumbfounded ;  but  this  I  do  know ;  that  I  was  still 
speechless  and  fair  witless  when  she  swept  me  a 
low-dipped  curtsy  and  gave  me  my  greeting. 

"I  bid  you  good  evening,  Captain  Ireton,"  she 
said,  coldly;  and  then  with  still  more  of  the  frost 
of  unwelcome  in  her  voice :  "To  what  may  we  be 
indebted  for  this  honor  ?" 

Now,  chilling  as  these  words  were,  they  thrilled 
me  to  my  finger-tips,  for  they  were  the  first  she  Had 
spoken  to  me  since  the  night  of  my  offending  in  the 


BEDDED   IN   A   GARRET  355 

black  gorge  of  the  far-off  western  mountains.  None 
the  less,  they  were  blankly  unanswerable,  and  had 
the  door  been  open  I  should  doubtless  have  van- 
ished as  I  had  come.  Of  all  the  houses  in  the  town 
this  was  surely  the  last  I  should  have  run  to  for 
refuge  had  I  known  the  name  of  its  master ;  and  it 
was  some  upflashing  of  this  thought  that  helped 
me  find  my  tongue. 

"I  never  guessed  this  was  your  father's  house," 
I  stammered,  bowing  low  to  match  her  curtsy. 
"I  beg  you  will  pardon  me,  and  let  me  go  as  I  came." 

She  laid  a  hand  on  the  door-knob.  "Is — is  there 
any  one  here  whom  you  would  see  ?"  she  asked ;  and 
now  her  eyes  did  not  meet  mine,  and  I  would  think 
the  chill  had  melted  a  little. 

"No.  I  was  begging  a  night's  lodging  of  a  friend 
whose  house  is  full.  He  sent  me  here  with  a  note  to 
— ah — to  your  father,  as  I  suppose,  though  in  his 
haste  he  did  not  mention  the  name." 

She  held  out  her  hand.    "Give  me  the  letter." 

"Nay,"  said  I ;  "that  would  be  but  thankless  work. 
Knowing  me,  your  father  must  needs  conceive  it 
his  duty  to  denounce  me." 

"Give  it  me !"  she  insisted ;  this  with  an  impatient 
little  stamp  of  the  foot  and  an  upglance  of  the  com- 
pelling eyes  that  would  have  constrained  me  to  do 
a  far  foolisher  thing,  had  she  asked  it. 

So  I  gave  her  the  letter  and  stood  aside,  hat  in 
hand,  while  she  read  it.  There  were  candles  in 
their  sconces  over  the  mantel  and  she  moved 
nearer  to  have  the  better  light.  The  soft  glow  of 


356       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

the  candles  fell  upon  her  shining  hair,  and  upon 
cheek  and  brow;  and  I  could  see  her  bosom  rise 
and  fall  with  the  quick-coming  breath,  and  the  pulse 
throbbing  in  her  fair  white  neck.  And  with  the  see- 
ing I  became  a  fool  of  love  again  in  very  earnest, 
and  was  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  sinking  honor 
and  all  else  in  an  outpouring  of  such  words  as  a 
man  may  say  once  to  one  woman  in  all  the  world — 
and  having  said  them  may  never  unsay  them. 

'Twas  a  most  practical  little  thing  she  did  that 
saved  me  from  falling  headlong  into  this  last  ditch 
of  dishonor.  Twisting  the  letter  into  a  spill  she 
stood  on  tiptoe  to  light  it  at  one  of  the  candles, 
saying :  "  'Twas  a  foolish  thing  to  put  on  paper, 
and  might  well  hang  the  writer  in  such  times  as 
these.  He  says  you  are  a  king's  man  and  well 
known  to  him,  and  you  are  neither."  But  when  the 
letter  was  a  crisp  of  blackened  paper-ash  she  turned 
upon  me,  and  once  again  the  changeful  eyes  were 
cold  and  her  words  were  stranger-formal. 

"What  is  it  you  would  have  me  do,  Captain 
Ireton?" 

"Nothing,"  I  made  haste  to  say;  "nothing  save 
to  believe  that  I  came  here  unwittingly — and  to  let 
me  go." 

"Where  will  you  go?  TKe  town  is  alive  with 
those  who  would — who  would — " 

"Who  would  show  me  scant  mercy,  you  would 
say.  True;  and  yet  I  came  hither — to  the  town,  I 
mean — of  my  own  free  will." 

Her  mood  changed  in  the  pivoting  fraction  of 


BEDDED   IN   A   GARRET  357 

an  instant,  and  now  the  beautiful  eyes  were  alight 
and  warm  and  pleadingly  eloquent. 

"Oh,  why  did  you  come  ?  Are  you — are  you  what 
they  said  you  were  ?" 

"A  spy?  If  I  am,  you  would  scarce  expect  me 
to  confess  it,  even  to  you." 

'  Tis  dishonorable — most  dishonorable !"  she 
cried.  "I  could  respect  a  brave  soldier  enemy; 
but  a  spy — " 

There  was  a  clattering  of  hoofs  in  the  street  and  a 
jingle  of  sword-scabbards  on  the  door-stone.  I 
wheeled  to  face  the  newcomers,  determined  now  to 
front  it  boldly  as  a  desperate  man  at  bay.  But  be- 
fore the  fumbling  hands  without  could  find  the 
door-knob  Margery  was  beside  me,  all  a-flutter  in  a 
trembling-fit  of  excitement. 

"Up  the  stair,  quickly,  pour  V amour  de  Dieu!" 
she  whispered;  and  we  were  at  the  clock  landing 
when  the  great  door  opened  and  some  half-dozen 
king's  officers  came  in.  We  crouched  together  be- 
hind the  balustrade  till  they  should  pass  beyond  the 
sight  of  us,  and  in  the  group  I  marked  a  man  stout 
and  heavy  built,  walking  full  solidly  for  his  two- 
and-forty  years.  He  wore  his  own  hair  dressed 
high  in  front  in  the  fashion  first  set  for  the  women 
by  the  Grand  Monarque's  loose-wife;  and  as  he 
passed  under  the  candles  I  saw  that  it  was  graying 
slightly.  His  face,  high-browed,  long-nosed, 
double-chinned,,  with  the  eyes  womanish  for  bigness 
and  marked  with  brows  that  might  have  been  pen- 
ciled by  the  hair-dresser,  I  had  seen  before;  but 


358       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

lacking  this  present  sight  of  it,  the  orders  on  his 
breast  would  have  named  him  the  ranking  general 
of  the  army  in  the  field — Lord  Charles  Cornwallis. 
With  all  the  houses  in  the  town  to  choose  among,  I 
had  blundered  into  this — my  Lord's  own  headquar- 
ters. 

••  I  had  but  a  passing  glimpse  of  the  incoming 
group,  for  when  it  was  well  beneath  the  turn  of  the 
stair,  my  lady  had  me  up  and  running  again,  driving 
me  on  before  her  to  the  chamber  floor  above,  along  a 
dimly  lighted  corridor  with  many  turnings,  and  so 
to  a  cul-de-sac  in  the  same — a  doorless  passage  with 
a  high  dormer  window  in  the  end  and  no  other  ap- 
parent means  of  egress. 

:.  Margery  had  snatched  a  candle  from  one  of  the 
corridor  holders  in  the  flight,  and  now  she  bade  me 
sit  on  the  floor  and  draw  my  boots.  I  did  it,  shame- 
facedly enough,  being  but  a  foul  and  ragged  vaga- 
bond unfit  to  have  her  come  anigh  me.  But  I  might 
have  spared  my  blushings  for  she  had  turned  her 
back  and  was  opening  a  secret  door  in  the  high 
wainscot. 

Beyond  the  door  lay  a  raftered  garret  half  filled 
with  cast-off  house  lumber  and  lighted  and  aired 
by  two  high  roof  windows.  Into  this  she  led  me, 
with  a  finger  on  her  lip  for  silence.  A  hum  of 
voices,  the  clinking  of  glass,  and  now  and  again  a 
hearty  soldier  laugh  told  me  that  my  garret  was 
above  some  living-room  of  the  house. 

While  I  stood,  boots  in  hand,  she  found  a  make- 


BEDDED   IN   A   GARRET  359 

shift  candlestick  and  in  a  trice  had  spread  me  a 
pallet  on  an  ancient  oaken  settle  big  enough  to 
serve  for  a  choir  stall  in  a  cathedral. 

"You'll  be  safe  here  for  the  night,  if  so  be  you 
will  make  no  more  noise  than  a  rat  might  make," 
she  whispered.  "Mais,  won  Dien!  'tis  a  terrible 
risk.  How  you  will  get  off  in  the  morning  I  do  not 
know." 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  I  rejoined.  Then  I  remem- 
bered the  portmanteau  and  the  promise  that  it 
should  be  sent  hither.  Here  was  a  further  compli- 
cation, and  I  must  needs  beg  a  boon  of  her.  "A 
black  boy  will  bring  my  portmanteau  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  have  a  decent  desire  to  be  hanged  in  clean 
clothing ;  may  I  beg  you  to — " 

She  made  a  quick  little  gesture  of  impatience; 
at  the  further  complication,  or  at  my  boldness  in 
asking,  I  knew  not  which.  But  her  whispered  re- 
ply was  of  assent,  and  then  she  turned  to  leave  me. 

At  that  a  sudden  fierce  desire  to  know  why  she 
had  thus  befriended  me  came  to  throttle  prudence. 

"One  more  word  before  you  go,  Mistress  Mar- 
gery. Will  you  tell  me  why  you  have  done  this 
for  the  man  who  can  serve  you  only  by  thrusting 
his  neck  into  the  hangman's  noose?" 

She  was  silent  for  a  little  space,  and  I  knew  not 
what  emotion  it  was  that  moved  her  to  turn  away 
and  cover  her  face  with  her  hands.  But  when  she 
spoke  her  voice  was  low  and  tremulous  with  pent- 
up  anger,  as  I  thought. 


360       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"Truly,  Captain  Ireton,  you  have  done  a  thing  to 
make  me  hate  you — and  myself,  as  well.  But  I  may 
not  forget  my  duty,  sir." 

And  with  this  cruel  word  she  was  gone. 


XXXIII 

IN  WHICH  I  HEAR  CHANCEFUL  TIDINGS 

You  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  hazards  of  this 
hiding  place  in  my  Lord  Cornwallis's  headquarters 
would  keep  me  from  sleeping  well  and  soundly. 
One  of  the  things  a  soldier  learns  soonest  is  to  take 
his  rest  when  and  as  he  can ;  and  after  peering  curi- 
ously into  the  nooks  and  corners  of  my  garret  to 
make  sure  I  was  alone,  I  flung  myself  a-sprawl  on 
the  broad  settle  and  was  dropping  off  into  forget- 
fulness  when  I  heard  a  tapping  at  the  wainscot. 

It  fetched  me  wide  awake  with  a  start,  and  I  was 
up  and  weaponed  instantly — having  taken  the  pre- 
caution to  lay  my  sword  in  easy  reach  before  blow- 
ing out  the  candle.  Groping  my  way  cautiously 
to  the  secret  door,  I  crouched  and  listened.  All  was 
silent  save  for  the  intermittent  clamor  of  the  was- 
sailers  in  the  room  beneath.  After  waiting  a  full 
minute  I  opened  the  door  and  looked  without.  The 
high  dormer  window  in  the  end  of  the  corridor 
made  the  darkness  something  less  than  visible,  and  I 
could  see  that  the  passage  was  empty.  But  on  the 
floor  at  my  feet  was  my  supper ;  a  roasted  fowl  on  a 
361 


362       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEEY! 

server,  hot  from  the  spit,  with  maize  bread  and  gar- 
nishings  fit  for  an  epicure. 

Since,  as  an  appanage  of  Appleby  Hundred,  this 
was  mine  own  house,  and,  by  consequence,  the  fowl 
was  mine,  I  ate  as  a  hungry  man  should,  making  no 
scruple  on  the  score  of  pride.  Nor  did  I  forget  to 
be  grateful  to  my  lady ;  though  when  I  remembered 
that  this  was  doubtless  but  another  leaf  out  of  her 
duty-book,  the  meat  was  like  to  choke  me.  And  it 
was  this  thought  that  made  me  resolve  thrice  over 
to  loose  her  from  the  onerous  burden  of  me  so  soon 
as  ever  the  morning  light  should  come  to  help  me 
find  the  way  out  of  my  covert  prison. 

None  the  less,  for  all  my  fine  resolves  to  be  astir 
and  off  by  daybreak,  the  sun  was  shining  broadly 
in  at  my  garret  window  when  I  awoke. 

Seeing  the  sun,  I  tumbled  out  of  my  settle-bed, 
with  a  malediction  on  the  sloth  that  had  bound  me  so 
fast,  and  made  for  the  door.  But  some  one  had 
been  before  me,  entering  whilst  I  slept.  On  a 
broken  chair  were  a  basin  and  ewer,  with  soap  and 
towels ;  beside  the  chair  was  my  portmanteau ;  and 
on  a  deal  box,  neatly  covered  with  a  linen  cloth, 
was  my  breakfast. 

You,  my  dears,  who  have  your  maid  or  man  to 
tell  you  when  your  bath  is  ready,  and  to  lay  out  the 
fresh,  clean  garments  sweet  from  the  laundering, 
may  wonder  that  I  put  away  the  thought  of  flight 
and  let  the  breakfast  cool  whilst  I  shaved  and 
washed  and  scrubbed,  and  doffed  the  vagabond  and 
donned  the  gentleman.  I  did  it;  did  it  leisurely, 


CHANCEFUL   TIDINGS  363 

rolling  the  privilege  as  a  sweet  morsel  under  my 
tongue.  They  say  the  raiment  never  makes  the 
man ;  'tis  a  half-truth  only.  For  in  his  own  regard, 
at  least,  the  man  is  vagabond  or  gentleman  as  he 
may  dress  the  one  part  or  the  other.  And  I  am  sure 
of  this;  that  when  I  drew  up  another  of  the  cast- 
off  chairs  to  sit  at  meat,  freshly  groomed,  and  clad  in 
the  field  uniform  of  a  captain  of  her  Apostolic 
Majesty's  Hussars,  I  was  the  fitter  by  many  trans- 
migrations to  cope  with  fate  or  any  other  adversary. 

And  now,  the  claims  of  decency  paid  in  full,  and 
the  keen  edge  of  hunger  somewhat  dulled,  I  was 
free  to  think  of  my  sweet  lady's  loving-kindness  to 
one  she  hated — and  to  wonder  what  she  would  do 
and  be  for  one  she  loved.  As  you  would  guess, 
there  were  dregs  of  bitterness  in  that  cup  ;  and  I  was 
once  again  set  sharp  upon  relieving  her  of  the  bur- 
den of  me. 

Having  my  Austrian  uniform,  I  was  now  ready 
to  move  in  that  venture  outlined  in  part  to  Colonel 
Davie ;  but  to  set  my  plan  in  action  I  must  first  get 
free  of  the  house  unseen  by  my  Lord  or  any  of  his 
suite.  How  to  do  this  unaided  I  could  not  deter- 
mine ;  and,  since  any  fresh  blundering  would  surely 
breed  new  trouble  for  Margery,  I  was  forced  to 
wait  for  her  return. 

I  made  sure  she  would  come,  if  only  to  be  the 
sooner  quit  of  me ;  and  so  she  did,  tapping  at  the 
wainscot  door  whilst  I  was  dallying  with  the  break- 
fast leavings.  'Twas  worth  something  to  see  her 
start  of  surprise  when  I  opened  to  her ;  but  she  was 


364       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

far  too  true  a  lady  to  be  one  thing  to  the  unwashed 
vagabond  and  another  to  the  gentleman-clad. 

I  gave  her  good  morning,  and  was  beginning  in 
some  formal  fashion  to  thank  her  for  her  thoughtful 
care,  when  she  cut  me  short. 

"  'Tis  my  bounden  duty,  sir,"  she  said,  twanging 
once  again  upon  that  frayed  string.  "You  are  my 
guest  and  my — husband;  though  God  knows  I 
would  you  were  neither." 

"Merci,  Madame,"  said  I;  stung  so  sharply  that 
the  retort  would  out  in  spite  of  everything.  "As 
once  before,  I  am  your  poor  misfortunate  pensioner ; 
but  this  time  you  are  not  less  willing  to  give  than  I 
am  to  receive." 

She  gave  me  a  look  that  I  could  not  fathom,  and 
for  a  flitting  instant  I  could  have  sworn  there  was 
a  mocking  smile  a-lurk  at  the  back  of  the  beautiful 
eyes.  Then  she  went  straight  to  the  subject-matter 
of  her  errand,  brushing  aside  the  small  passage  at 
arms  as  if  it  had  not  been. 

"You  are  in  a  most  perilous  situation,  Captain 
Ireton ;  do  you  know  it  ?  News  of  your  presence  in 
Charlotte  has  got  abroad,  and  at  this  very  moment 
Tarleton's  dragoons  are  making  a  house-to-house 
search  for  you." 

"So ;  some  one  has  betrayed  me  ?" 

She  nodded. 

"Do  you  know  who  it  was?" 

She  nodded  again. 

I  considered  of  it  for  a  little  time,  and  then  said : 
"I  must  not  be  taken  here.  Will  your — ah — duty 


CHANCEFUL  TIDINGS  365 

stretch  the  length  of  showing1  me  an  unwatched 
door?" 

"There  are  no  doors  unwatched.  You  must  stay 
here  till  nightfall." 

"Nay,  that  I  will  not.  Will  you  tell  me  who  it 
was  set  them  on?" 

"  'Twas  a  man  you  hate — and  who  hates  you 
heartily  in  return.  He  saw  you  come  here  last 
night ;  he  knows  you  are  here  now — or  guesses  it." 

I  had  no  right  to  pry  into  her  confidence  as  a  thief 
would  break  into  a  house.  But  I  was  loath  to  fight 
my  battle  in  the  dark  if  she,  or  any  one,  could  give 
me  light. 

"His  name,  if  you  may  give  it,  Mistress  Margery. 
It  may  point  the  way  out  of  this  coil." 

"  'Tis  Owen  Pengarvin.  He  was  here  last  night 
when  you  came." 

Now  I  remembered  the  little  man  in  black  whom 
I  had  seen  coming  down  the  stair  whilst  I  knocked 
at  the  door.  But  this  left  me  in  a  greater  maze 
than  ever. 

"If  he  knows  I  am  here,  why  does  he  let  them 
search  elsewhere?" 

At  this  she  looked  away  from  me,  and  I  made 
sure  I  saw  the  sweet  chin  quiver  when  she  spoke, 

"He  has  reasons  of  his  own;  reasons  of — of — '* 
but  instead  of  telling  me  what  they  were  she  broke 
off  to  say :  "But  now  you  know  why  all  the  doors 
of  this  house  are  under  guard." 

"Truly,"  said  I;  and  therewith  I  fell  to  pacing 
up  and  down  the  narrow  clear-way  in  the  garret, 


366       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYi 

striving  to  see  how  I  might  come  off  with  nothing 
worse  than  the  loss  of  my  burdensome  life. 

'Twos  easy  to  guess  how  this  shaveling  lawyer 
had  discomfited  me.  Forewarned  is  forearmed  in 
any  soldier  camp ;  and  through  his  blabbing,  the  plan 
by  which  I  had  hoped  to  lull  resentment  and  fore- 
stall suspicion  was  nipped  in  the  bud.  I  saw  the 
far-reaching  consequences,  and  was  made  to  know 
how  a  trapped  rat  will  turn  and  fight  in  sheer  des- 
peration whilst  the  terrier  is  shaking  him  to  death'. 

When  that  leaven  began  to  work  in  me  I  was  fit 
for  the  daringest  thing  that  offered ;  so  I  paused  to 
ask  if  my  Lord  Cornwallis  were  yet  in  the  house. 

"He  is  writing  letters  in  his  bed-room,"  was  her 
answer. 

"If  you  will  show  me  the  way  thither  I  shall  be 
your  poor  debtor  by  that  much  more." 

"I  will  not — unless  you  first  tell  me  what  you 
mean  to  do."  She  said  it  firmly,  but  now  I  was 
fronting  death  and  could  be  as  firm  as  she. 

"If  you  will  not  show  me  the  way,  I  shall  find  it 
for  myself."  So  much  I  said ;  but  as  for  telling  her 
that  I  meant  to  save  his  Lordship  and  all  the  others 
the  trouble  of  running  me  down,  I  could  not  do  that. 

"You  are  going  to  give  yourself  up,"  she  said; 
and  when  I  would  not  deny  it,  she  darted  before  me 
and  set  her  back  against  the  wainscot  door.  "  'Tis 
folly,  folly!"  she  cried.  "He  would  but  pull  the 
bell-cord  and — " 

"And  give  the  order  that  Colonel  Tarlefon's 
sentence  be  executed  upon  me,  you  would  say.  Be 


CHANCEFUL   TIDINGS  367 

it  so.  But  in  that  event  I  can  at  least  clear  you  and 
your  father  of  any  complicity  in  my  hiding." 

"I  say  you  shall  not  go!" 

What  touch  of  savagery  is  it  in  a  man  that  will 
not  suffer  him  to  let  a  woman,  loved  or  unloved, 
stand  in  the  last  resort  against  his  will?  At  any 
other  time  I  would  have  pleaded  with  her;  would 
have  ended,  mayhap,  by  weakly  deferring  to  her 
wish.  But  now — well,  you  must  remember,  my 
dears,  that  I  was  the  trapped  rat.  I  took  her  gently 
in  my  arms,  set  her  aside,  and  stepped  out  into  the 
corridor. 

I  looked  for  nothing  less  than  a  volcano-burst  of 
righteous  indignation  to  pay  me  out  for  this  piece 
of  tyranny.  But  now,  as  twice  or  thrice  before,  my 
lady  showed  me  how  little  a  man  may  know  of  a 
woman's  moods. 

"You  need  not  be  so  masterful  rough  witK  me," 
she  said,  with  a  pouting  of  the  sweet  lips  that  set 
me  back  upon  that  thought  of  a  wayward  child 
wanting  to  be  kissed.  "If  you  say  I  must,  I  am  in 
duty  bound  to  show  you  the  way."  And  so  she  led 
on  and  I  followed,  in  a  deeper  maze  than  any  she 
had  ever  set  me  in. 

Arrived  at  a  pair  of  doors  in  the  main  passage, 
she  showed  me  the  one  that  opened  to  my  Lord's 
bed-chamber  and  ran  away;  ran  with  her  hands  to 
her  face  as  if  to  shut  out  a  sight  which  would  not 
bear  looking  upon. 

I  turned  my  back  stiffly  upon  this  newer  wonder, 
pulled  myself  together  and  rapped  on  the  door.  A 


368       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

voice  within  bade  me  enter;  the  door  opened 
under  my  hand  and  I  stood  in  the  presence  of  the 
man  who,  as  I  made  no  doubt,  would  shortly  sum- 
mon his  guards  and  have  me  out  to  my  rope  and 
tree. 


XXXIV 

HOW  I  MET  A'  GREAT  LORD  AS  MAN  TO  MAN 

The  room  in  which  I  found  myself  was  the  guest- 
chamber,  furnished  luxuriously,  for  that  day  and 
place,  in  French-fashioned  mahogany  and  gilt.  The 
bed  was  high  and  richly  canopied,  as  befitted  a 
peer's  resting  place ;  there  was  a  square  of  Turkish 
drugget  on  the  floor,  a  cheerful  fire  burning  in  the 
chimney  arch,  and  on  the  small  table  whereat  the 
occupant  of  the  guest-room  had  lately  breakfasted, 
a  goodly  display  of  the  Ireton  silver. 

My  Lord  was  busy  at  his  writing-desk  when  I 
entered;  but  when  he  looked  up  I  saw  the  light  of 
instant  recognition  in  his  eye.  Never,  I  think,  did 
another  prisoner  at  the  bar  strive  harder  to  read  his 
sentence  in  his  judge's  eyes  than  I  did  in  that  mo- 
ment of  suspense.  I  liked  not  much  the  look  he 
gave  me;  but  his  greeting  was  affable  and  kindly 
enough. 

"Ah,  Captain  Ireton ;  'tis  you,  is  it  ?  We  are 
well  met,  at  last.  They  told  me  you  were  gone  to 
join  the  rebels,  did  they  not?" 

Here  was  an  opening  for  a  bold  man,  and  in  a 
369 


370       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYI 

flash  I  came  to  the  right-about,  choked  down  the 
defiance  I  had  meant  to  hurl  at  him,  and  took  quick 
counsel  of  cool  audacity. 

"Indeed,  my  Lord,  I  know  not  what  they  have 
told  you.  In  times  past,  the  king-  had  no  truer 
soldier  than  I ;  and  when  I  came  across  seas  'twas 
not  to  fight  against  him.  But  that  I  have  not  joined 
the  rebels  is  no  fault  of  certain  of  your  Lordship's 
officers." 

"Say  you  so  ?  But  how  is  this  ?  Surely  I  am  not 
mistaken.  I  could  be  certain  Colonel  Tarleton  re- 
ported your  taking  as  a  spy,  and  his  trying  of  you. 
And  was  there  not  something  about  a  rescue  at  the 
last  moment  by  a  band  of  these  border  bravos? 
But  stay;  let  us  have  the  colonel's  story  at  first 
hands.  Have  the  goodness  to  ring  the  bell  for  me, 
will  you,  Captain?" 

The  crisis  was  come.  A  pull  at  the  bell-cord 
would  summon  the  guard,  and  the  guard  would  be 
sent  after  Colonel  Tarleton.  Well,  said  the  demon 
Despair,  'tis  time  you  were  gone  to  make  room  for 
Richard  Jennifer;  and  I  laid  a  hand  upon  the  tas- 
seled  rope.  But  when  I  would  have  rung,  all  the 
man-pride,  of  race  and  of  soldier  training,  rose  up  to 
bid  me  fight  for  space  to  strike  one  good  blow  in 
freedom's  cause  by  way  of  leave-taking. 

So,  as  it  had  been  an  afterthought,  I  said:  "A 
word  further  with  you  first,  my  Lord,  and  then,  if 
you  please,  I  will  call  the  guard.  All  you  remember 
is  true,  save  as  to  the  principal  fact.  So  far  from 
being  a  spy  in  intent,  or  even  a  partizan  of  either 


A  GREAT  LORD  AS  MAN  TO  MAN    371 

side,  I  was  at  the  time  but  newly  come  into  the 
province,  knowing-  little  of  the  cause  of  quarrel  and 
caring  still  less.  But  Captain  Falconnet  and  Colonel 
Tarleton  did  their  earnest  best  to  make  a  rebel  of 
me  out  of  hand." 

"Ah?    But  the  proof  of  all  this,  Captain  Ireton." 

"The  best  I  can  offer  is  the  present  fact  of  my 
coming  to  place  myself  at  your  Lordship's  disposal, 
being  moved  thereto  by  your  Lordship's  own  desire 
expressed  in  an  order  sent  some  weeks  since  to  Sir 
Francis  Falconnet." 

"So? — then  you  knew  of  that  order?" 

"Captain  Falconnet  showed  it  to  me  after  I 
was  condemned  and  the  firing  squad  was  drawn 
up  to  snuff  me  out." 

My  Lord  Charles  gave  me  the  courtier  smile  that 
so  endeared  him  to  his  soldiers, — he  was  well-loved 
of  his  men, — and  bade  me  sit. 

"The  plot  thickens,  as  Mr.  Richardson  would 
say.  Let  me  have  your  story,  Captain  Ireton.  I 
would  rejoice  to  know  why  Captain  Sir  Francis 
Falconnet  saw  fit  to  disobey  his  orders." 

I  was  clear  of  the  lee  shore  and  the  breakers  at 
last,  but  I  was  fain  to  believe  that  not  Machiavelli 
himself  could  hope  to  weather  the  storm  in  the  open. 
How  much  or  how  little  did  Lord  Cornwallis  re- 
member of  Colonel  Tarleton's  report?  How  ex- 
plicit had  that  report  been? — was  there  any  men- 
tion in  it  of  my  eavesdropping  at  the  conference 
between  Captain  John  Stuart  and  the  baronet;  of 
my  attempt  to  warn  the  over-mountain  men  against 


372       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

the  Indian-arming?  Could  I  hope  to  tell  his  Lord- 
ship a  tale  so  near  the  truth  as  to  be  unassailable 
by  Tarleton  and  his  officers,  by  Gilbert  Stair  and  the 
spiteful  little  pettifogger,  and  yet  so  deftly  garbled 
as  to  keep  my  neck  out  of  the  halter  for  the  time 
being? 

All  these  questions  thronged  upon  me  as  a  mob 
to  pull  cool  reason  from  her  seat,  and  I  could  only 
play  the  part  of  the  trapped  rat  and  snap  back  at 
them.  Yet  my  Lord  Cornwallis  was  waiting  for 
his  answer,  and  a  single  moment's  hesitation  might 
breed  suspicion. 

You  must  forgive  me,  my  dears,  if  I  confess  it 
beyond  me  to  set  down  here  in  measured  words  the 
tale  I  told  his  Lordship.  A  lie  is  a  lie,  be  it  told  in 
never  so  good  a  cause ;  a  thing  deplorable  and  not 
to  be  glozed  over  or  boasted  of  after  the  fact.  So 
I  beg  you  to  let  these  quibblings  to  which  I  was 
driven  rest  in  oblivion,  figuring  to  yourselves  that 
I  used  all  the  truth  I  dared,  and  that  I  strove 
through  it  all  not  wholly  to  sink  the  gentleman  and 
the  man  of  honor  in  the  spy. 

'Twas  but  a  bridge  of  glass  when  all  was  said; 
a  bridge  that  carried  me  safely  over  for  the  moment 
into  my  Lord's  confidence,  yet  one  which  a  pebble 
flung  by  any  one  of  a  dozen  hands  might  shiver  in 
the  dropping  of  an  eyelid. 

"Truly,  you  have  had  a  most  romantic  experi- 
ence," said  his  Lordship,  when  I  had  made  an  end. 
Then  he  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed  till  the 
stout  body  of  him  shook  again.  "And  all  about  a 


A  GREAT  LORD  AS  MAN  TO  MAN    373 

little  wench"  of  the  provincials.  Well,  well;  Sir 
Francis  was  always  a  sad  dog  with  the  women. 
But  all  this  was  in  the  early  summer,  you  say; 
where  have  you  been  since  ?" 

Here  was  a  chance  for  more  romancing,  this  time 
of  a  sort  less  dangerous.  So  I  drew  breath  and 
plunged  again,  telling  how  I  had  been  carried  off 
by  my  captor-rescuers;  how  I  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  Indians — not  all  of  whom,  I  would 
remind  his  Lordship,  were  friendly  to  the  king; 
and  lastly  how  I  had  but  lately  escaped  from  the 
mountain  fastnesses  back  of  Major  Ferguson's 
camp  at  Gilbert  Town.  At  this  point  my  Lord  in- 
terrupted the  tale-telling. 

"So  you  know  of  the  major  and  his  doings?  I 
would  you  had  brought  me  late  news  of  him.  'Tis 
a  week  since  his  last  courier  reached  us." 

This  was  the  moment  for  the  playing  of  my  trump 
card — the  only  one  I  held.  I  rose,  bowed,  took  from 
my  pocket  that  other  letter  given  me  by  Colonel 
Davie  and  handed  it  to  his  Lordship.  'Twas  Major 
Ferguson's  last  report,  intercepted  by  one  of  Davie's 
vigilant  scouting  parties. 

"Ah !"  said  my  Lord ;  and  I  strolled  to  the  window 
whilst  he  read  the  letter. 

When  I  turned  to  front  him  again  he  was  all 
affability ;  and  I  knew  I  was  safe — for  the  time,  at 
least. 

"The  major  commends  you  highly  as  a  good  man 
and  a  true,  Captain  Ireton,"  he  said,  and  truly  the 
letter  did  contain  a  warm-hearted  commendation  of 


374       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

"the  bearer,"  whose  name,  for  safety's  sake,  was 
omitted;  and  not  only  this,  but  the  writer  desired 
to  have  his  man  back  again.  Then  my  Lord 
added :  "You  are  here  to  take  your  old  service 
again,  I  assume?" 

I  hesitated.  There  be  things  that  even  a  spy 
may  balk  at;  and  the  taking  of  the  oath  of  allegi- 
ance to  the  other  side  I  conceived  to  be  one  of 
them.  So  I  said : 

"I  have  worn  many  uniforms  since  I  doffed  that 
of  King  George,  my  Lord,  and  — " 

He  laughed  cheerily.  "  'But  me  no  buts,'  Captain 
Ireton ;  once  an  Englishman,  always  an  English- 
man, you  know.  I  shall  assign  you  to  duty  in  my 
own  family." 

At  this  I  made  a  bold  stroke.  "Let  it  be  then  as 
an  officer  of  her  Apostolic  Majesty's  service,  and 
your  Lordship's  guest  for  the  time.  Believe  me, 
it  is  thus  I  may  best  serve  your — ah — the  cause." 

"As  how  ?"  he  would  ask. 

I  smiled  and  touched  the  braided  jacket  of  my 
hussar  uniform. 

"As  an  Austrian  officer  on  a  tour  of  observation 
in  the  campaign  I  may  go  and  come  where  others 
may  not,  and  see  and  hear  things  which  your  Lord- 
ship may  wish  to  know.  Does  your  Lordship  take 
me?" 

He  laughed  and  rose  and  clapped  me  on  the 
shoulder. 

"You  may  call  the  guard  now,  Captain,  and  I 
will  turn  you  over — not  to  a  firing  squad,  but  to 


rA  GREAT  LORD  AS  MAN  TO  MAN    375 

the  tender  mercies  of  our  old  rascal  host  who  is 
a  'trimmer"  of  the  devil's  own  school.  If  he  tries 
to  screw  a  penny's  pay  out  of  you,  as  he  is  like  to, 
put  him  in  arrest." 

"It  is  your  Lordship's  meaning  that  I  should  be 
quartered  here? — in  this  house?"  I  gasped. 

"And  why  not?  Ah,  my  good  Captain  of  Hus- 
sars, I  have  made  you  my  honorary  aide-de-camp 
and  a  member  of  my  family  so  that  I  may  keep  an 
eye  on  you.  Comprenez-vous?" 

He  said  it  with  a  laugh  and  another  hearty 
hand-clap  on  my  shoulder,  and  I  would  fain  take 
it  for  a  jest.  Yet  there  be  playful  gibes  that  hint 
at  gibbets ;  and  I  may  confess  to  you  here,  my  dears, 
that  I  left  my  Lord's  presence  with  the  conviction 
that  my  acquittal  was  but  a  reprieve  conditioned 
upon  the  best  of  future  good  behavior.  So  it  took 
another  turn  of  the  audacity  screw  to  tune  me  up 
for  the  battle  royal  with  Gilbert  Stair  and  the  petti- 
fogger, Owen  Pengarvin. 


XXXV 

IN   WHICH   I  FIGHT  THE  DEVIL  WITH   FIRE 

With  the  house  guard  for  a  guide  I  found  my 
host  in  a  box-like  den  below  stairs ;  a  room  with  a 
writing-table,  two  chairs  and  a  great  iron  strong- 
box for  its  scanty  furnishings. 

The  old  man  was  sitting  at  the  table  when  I 
looked  in,  his  long  nose  buried  in  a  musty  parchment 
deed.  The  light  from  the  single  small  window 
was  none  too  good,  but  it  sufficed  to  help  him  rec- 
ognize me  at  a  glance,  despite  the  hussar  uniform. 
In  a  twinkling  he  put  the  breadth  of  the  oaken  table 
between  us,  hurled  the  parchment  deed  into  the 
open  strong-box,  slammed  to  the  cover  and  gave 
a  shrill  alarm. 

"Ho!  you  devils  without,  there!  Here  he  is — I 
have  him !  Help !  Murder !" 

The  guard,  a  burly,  bearded  Darmstadter,  turned 
on  his  heel  and  stood  at  attention  in  the  doorway, 
looking  stolidly  for  his  orders,  not  to  the  shrilling 
master  of  the  house,  but  to  the  man  who  wore  a 
uniform. 

"  Tis  naught,"  I  said,  speaking  in  German.  "He 
376 


I   FIGHT  THE   DEVIL  WITH   FIRE    377 

mistakes  me  for  a  rittmeister  of  the  rebels.  Ver- 
stehen  Sie?" 

The  soldier  saluted,  wheeled  and  vanished ;  and  I 
sat  down  to  wait  till  the  old  man's  outcry  should 
pause  for  lack  of  breath.  When  my  chance  came, 
I  said : 

"Calm  yourself,  Mr.  Stair.  You  are  in  no  pres- 
ent danger  greater  than  that  which  you  may  bring 
upon  yourself.  Blot  out  all  the  past,  if  you  please, 
and  consider  me  now  as  a  member  of  Lord  Corn- 
wallis's  military  family  seeking  quarters  in  your 
house  by  my  Lord's  express  command." 

"Quarters  in  my  house? — ye're  a  damned  rebel 
spy !"  he  cried.  "I'll  denounce  ye  to  my  Lord  for 
what  ye  are.  Ho !  ye  rascals,  I  say !" 

"Peace!"  I  commanded,  sternly;  "this  is  but 
child's  folly.  No  man  in  the  British  army  would 
arrest  me  at  your  behest.  Ring  the  bell  and  sum- 
mon your  factor  lawyer.  I  would  have  a  word  or 
two  in  private  with  both  of  you." 

He  dropped  into  a  chair,  and  I  could  see  the 
sweat  standing  in  great  beads  on  his  wrinkled  fore- 
head. 

"D'  ye — d'  ye  mean  to  kill  us  both?"  he  gasped. 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it.  But  some  better  under- 
standing is  needful,  and  we  will  have  it  here  and 
now,  once  for  all.  Will  you  ring,  or  shall  I  ?" 

He  made  no  move  to  reach  the  bell-cord,  and  I 
rang  for  him.  A  grinning  black  boy  came  to  the 
door,  and  seeing  that  Mr.  Gilbert  Stair  was  beyond 
giving  the  order,  I  gave  it  myself. 


3/8       THE   MASTER  OR  APPLEBY 

"Find  Master  Pengarvin  and  send  him  here 
quickly.  Tell  him  Mr.  Stair  wants  him." 

There  was  a  short  interval  of  waiting-  and  then 
the  lawyer  came.  Being  but  a  little  wisp  of  a  man, 
all  malignance  and  no  courage,  he  would  have  fled 
when  he  saw  me.  But  I  caught  him  by  the  collar 
and  sent  him  scurrying  around  the  table  to  keep  his 
master  company. 

"Now,  then;  how  much  or  how  little  have  you 
two  blabbed  of  the  doings  at  Appleby  Hundred  some 
weeks  since?"  I  demanded.  "Speak  out,  and 
quickly." 

'Twas  the  lawyer  who  obeyed,  and  now  he  was 
the  trapped  rat  to  snap  blindly  in  despair. 

"You  will  hang  higher  than  Haman  when  the 
dragoons  find  you,"  he  gritted  out. 

"On  your  information  ?" 

"On  mine  and  Mr.  Stair's." 

"Ye  lie !"  shrieked  the  miser.  "I  tell't  ye  to  keep 
hands  off,  ye  bletherin'  little  deevil,  ye !" 

"Never  mind,"  said  I ;  "what's  done  is  done.  But 
it  must  be  undone,  and  that  swiftly  and  thoroughly. 
Lie  out  of  it  to  Colonel  Tarleton  and  the  others  as 
you  will;  Captain  John  Stuart  and  the  baronet  are 
not  here  to  contradict  you,  and  you  are  the  only 
witnesses.  Knock  together  some  story  that  will 
hold  water  and  lose  no  time  about  it.  Do  you 
understand  ?" 

Seeing  he  was  not  to  be  put  to  the  wall  and 
spitted  on  the  spot,  the  lawyer  recovered  himself. 

"'Tis  not  the  criminal  at  the  bar  who  dictates 


I    FIGHT   THE   DEVIL   WITH   FIRE    379 

terms,  Captain  Ireton,"  he  said,  with  his  hateful 
smirk.  "You  are  under  sentence  of  death,  and  that 
by  a  court  lawful  enough  in  war  time." 

"You  refuse?"  I  said. 

He  shrugged. 

"Speaking  for  myself,  I  shall  leave  no  stone  un- 
turned to  bring  you  to  book,  Captain, — when  it 
suits  my  purpose." 

I  was  loath  to  go  to  extremities  with  either  of 
them;  but  my  bridge  of  glass  must  be  defended  at 
all  hazards. 

"You  would  best  reconsider,  Mr.  Pengarvin.  At 
this  present  moment  I  am  of  my  Lord  Cornwallis's 
military  family  and  I  have  his  confidence.  A  word 
from  me  will  put  you  both  in  arrest  as  persons 
whose  loyalty  in  times  past  has  been  somewhat 
more  than  blown  upon." 

"Bah  1"  said  the  pettifogger.  "Bluster  is  a  good 
dog,  but  Holdfast  is  the  better.  You  can  prove 
nothing,  as  you  well  know.  Moreover,  with  your 
own  neck  in  a  noose  you  dare  not  mess  and  meddle 
with  other  men's  affairs." 

"Dare  not,  you  say?  I'll  tell  you  what  I  may 
dare,  Master  Attorney.  If  you  are  not  disposed  to 
meet  me  half  way  in  this  matter,  I  shall  go  to  my 
Lord,  tell  him  how  I  have  been  cheated  out  of  my 
estate,  declare  the  marriage  with  Mistress  Margery, 
and  see  that  you  get  your  just  deserts.  And  you 
may  rest  assured  that  this  soldier-earl  will  right 
me,  come  what  may." 

'Twas  a  bold  stroke,  the  boldest  of  any  I  had  made 


380       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

that  morning;  but  I  was  wholly  unprepared  for  its 
effect  upon  the  lawyer.  His  rage  was  like  that  of 
some  venomous  little  animal,  a  thing  to  make  an  on- 
looker shudder  and  draw  back. 

"Never !"  he  hissed ;  "never,  I  say !  I'll  kill  her 
first — I'll — "  He  choked  in  the  very  exuberance 
of  his  malignance,  and  his  face  was  like  the  face  of 
a  man  in  a  fit. 

'Twas  then  that  I  saw  the  pointing  of  his  villainy 
and  knew  what  Margery  had  meant  when  she  said 
that  for  reasons  of  his  own  he  was  holding  my 
betrayal  in  abeyance.  He  was  Falconnet's  suc- 
cessor and  my  rival.  This  little  reptile  aspired  to 
be  the  master  of  my  father's  acres  and  the  husband 
of  my  dear  lady!  And  his  holding  off  from  de- 
nouncing me  at  once  was  also  explained.  Taking  it 
for  granted  that  the  wife  would  bargain  for  the  hus- 
band's life,  he  had  made  a  whip  of  his  leniency  to 
flog  Margery  into  subjection. 

|-  My  determination  was  taken  upon  the  instant. 
There  was  no  safety  for  Margery  whilst  this  plot- 
ting pettifogger  was  at  large,  and  I  stepped  to  the 
door  and  called  the  sentry.  The  Darmstadter  came 
back  and  I  pointed  to  the  lawyer.  Then,  indeed, 
the  furious  little  madman  found  his  tongue  and 
shrilled  out  his  defiance. 

"Curse  you!"  he  ye%ed.  "I'll  be  quits  with  you 
for  this,  Master  Spy !  Tis  your  hearing  now,  but 
mine  will  come,  and  you  shall  hang  like  a  dog! 
I'll  follow  you  to  the  ends  of  the  earth— I'll— 

I  made  a  sign  and  the  soldier  brought  his  musket 


I    FIGHT   THE   DEVIL   WITH   FIRE    381 

into  play  and  pricked  his  prisoner  with  the  bayonet 
in  token  that  time  pressed.  So  we  were  rid  of  the 
lawyer  in  bodily  presence,  though  I  could  hear  his 
snarlings  and  spittings  as  the  big  Darmstadter  ran 
him  out  at  the  bayonet's  point. 

During  this  tilt  between  his  factor  and  me,  Mr. 
Gilbert  Stair  had  stood  apart,  watchful  but  trem- 
bling. When  we  were  alone  I  said : 

"Now,  Mr.  Stair,  I  shall  trouble  you  to  billet  me 
somewhere  in  your  house,  as  a  member  of  my 
Lord's  family.  Lead  on,  if  you  please,  and  I'll  fol- 
low." 

He  went  before  me  without  a  word,  out  of  the 
little  den  and  up  the  broad  stair,  doddering  like  a 
man  grown  ten  years  older  in  a  breath,  and  catch- 
ing at  the  balustrade  to  steady  himself  as  we  as- 
cended. The  room  he  gave  me  was  at  an  angle  in 
one  of  the  crookings  of  the  corridor,  and  pointing 
me  to  the  door  he  went  pottering  away,  still  without 
a  word  or  a  look  behind  him. 

The  door  was  on  the  latch,  but  it  gave  reluctantly, 
letting  me  in  suddenly  when  I  set  my  shoulder  to 
it.  There  was  a  quick  little  cry,  half  of  anger,  half 
of  affright,  from  within.  I  drew  back  hastily,  with 
a  muttered  curse  upon  the  old  man's  spite,  and  in 
the  act  my  spur  caught  the  door  and  slammed  it  shut 
behind  me.  t 

For  reasons  known  only  to  Omniscience  and  to 
himself,  Gilbert  Stair  had  shown  me  to  my  lady's 
chamber ;  she  was  standing,  with  her  bodice  off,  be- 
fore the  oval  mirror  on  the  high  dressing  case. 


XXXVI 

HOW   I   RODE  POST  ON  THE   KING'S  BUSINESS 

If  a  look  migHt  be  a  leven-stroke  to  do  a  man  to 
death,  I  warrant  you  my  lady's  flashing  eyes  would 
have  crisped  me  to  a  cinder  where  I  stood  fumbling 
with  one  hand  behind  me  for  the  latch  of  the 
slammed  door.  Scorn,  indignation,  outraged 
maiden  modesty,  all  these  thrust  at  me  like  air- 
drawn  daggers;  and  it  needed  not  her,  "Fie,  for 
shame,  Captain  Ireton! — and  you  would  call  your- 
self a  gentleman!"  to  set  me  afire  with  prinklings 
of  abashment. 

What  could  I  say  or  do?  The  accursed  door- 
latch  would  not  find  itself  to  let  me  fly ;  and  as  for 
excusings,  I  could  not  tell  her  that  her  own  father 
had  thrust  me  thus  upon  her.  Yet,  had  she  let  me 
be,  I  hope  I  should  have  had  the  wit  to  find  the 
door  fastening  and  the  grace  to  run  away ;  in  truth, 
I  had  the  latch  in  hand  when  she  lashed  out  at  me 
again,  and  my  tingling  shame  began  to  give  place  to 
that  master-devil  of  passion  which  is  never  more 
than  half  whipped  into  subjection  in  the  best  of  us. 
382 


I   RODE   POST   FOR   THE   KING    383 

"How  are  you  better  than  the  man  you  warned 
me  of?"  she  cried.  And  then,  in  a  tempest  of  grief : 
"Oh!  you  would  not  leave  me  the  respect  I  bore 
you ;  you  must  even  rob  me  of  that  to  fling  it  down 
and  trample  it  under  foot !" 

Figure  to  yourselves,  my  dears,  that  I  was  wholly 
blameless  in  this  unhappy  breaking  and  entering, 
and  so,  mayhap,  you  may  find  excuse  for  me.  For 
now,  though  I  could  have  gone,  I  would  not.  Her 
glorious  beauty,  heightened  beyond  compare  by  the 
passionate  outburst,  held  me  spellbound.  And  at 
my  ear  the  master-devil  whispered:  She  is  your 
wedded  wife ;  yours  for  better  or  worse,  till  death 
part  you.  Who  has  a  better  right  to  look  upon  her 
thus? 

So  it  was  that  the  love-madness  came  upon  me 
again,  and  that  thin  veneering  wherewith  the  Chris- 
tian centuries  have  so  painfully  overlaid  the  natural 
man  in  us  was  cracked  and  riven,  and  the  barbarian 
which  lies  but  skin-deep  underneath  bestirred  him- 
self and  winked  and  blinked  himself  awake  in 
giant  might,  as  did  the  primal  man  when  he  rose 
up  to  look  about  him  for  his  mate. 

Before  I  knew  what  I  would  do,  I  was  beside  her, 
and  honor,  or  what  may  stand  therefor  betwixt  a 
man  and  his  friend,  was  flung  away.  But  when 
I  would  have  crushed  her  sweetness  in  my  arms 
she  went  upon  her  knees  to  me.  .  .  Ah,  God! 
she  knelt  to  me  as  she  had  knelt  to  that  other  would- 
be  ravisher  and  begged  me  for  mine  own  honor's 
sake  to  bethink  me  of  what  I  would  do. 


384       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"OK,  Monsieur  JoKn!  be  merciful  as  you  are 
strong!"  she  pleaded.  "Think  what  it  will  mean 
to  you,  and  how  you  will  loathe  me  and  yourself 
as  well  when  this  madness  is  overpast!  Oh,  go; 
go  quickly,  lest  I,  too,  forget — " 

And  so  it  was  that  I  found  sudden  strength  to 
turn  and  leave  her  kneeling  there ;  turned  to  grope 
blindly  for  the  door  with  all  the  pains  of  hell  aflame 
within  me. 

For  now  I  had  put  honor  under  foot;  now  I 
knew  that  I  had  truly  earned  her  scorn  and  loath- 
ing. I  could  no  longer  plead  that  I  was  the  puppet 
of  fate  flung  against  my  will  between  this  maiden 
and  my  dear  lad.  I  was  the  wilful  offender ;  false  to 
my  love,  false  to  my  friend,  a  recreant  to  every  oath 
wherewith  I  had  bound  myself  to  be  true  and  loyal 
to  these  two. 

With  such  a  flaming  sword  to  drive  me  forth",  I 
stumbled  from  the  room,  thinking  only  how  I  should 
quickest  rid  me  of  myself.  Hastening  to  my  garret 
sleeping-place  I  buckled  on  my  sword,  found  my 
shako,  and  went  straight  to  my  Lord's  bed-chamber. 
My  rap  at  the  door  went  unanswered,  and  a  broad- 
shouldered  young  fellow  in  a  lieutenant's  uniform, 
lounging  on  a  settle  in  the  clock  landing  of  the 
stair,  told  me  Lord  Cornwallis  was  gone  out. 

I  was  face  to  face  with  this  young  lieutenant 
before  I  recognized  him ;  being  so  bent  upon  haste 
I  should  have  passed  him  on  the  landing  without 
a  second  glance  had  he  not  risen  to  grip  me  by  the 
shoulders. 


I   RODE    POST    FOR   THE   KING    385 

"By  the  Lord  Harry!"  he  cried,  "is  it  thus  you 
pass  an  old  friend  without  a  word,  Captain  Ireton  ?'' 

'Twas  my  good  death-watch ;  that  Lieutenant  Ty- 
bee  of  the  light-horse  who  had  sunk  the  British  of- 
ficer in  the  man  in  that  trying  night  at  Appleby  Hun- 
dred. I  returned  his  hearty  greeting  as  well  as  I 
might,  and  would  have  explained  my  present  state 
and  standing  but  that  I  was  loath  to  lie  to  him.  But 
as  to  this,  he  saved  me  the  shame  of  it. 

"I  could  have  sworn  you  were  no  rebel,  Captain 
Ireton ;  indeed,  I  made  bold  to  say  as  much  to  our 
colonel,  after  it  was  all  over.  I  told  him  a  soft 
word  or  two  would  have  won  you  back  to  your  old 
service.  You  see  I  knew  better  than  the  others 
what  lay  beneath  all  your  madnesses  that  night." 

"You  knew  somewhat,  but  not  all,"  I  said;  and 
thereupon,  lest  he  should  involve  me  deeper  and 
detain  me  longer  when  I  was  athirst  to  be  gone, 
I  hastened  to  ask  where  I  might  hope  to  find  his 
Lordship  and  Colonel  Tarleton. 

"  Tis  the  hour  for  parade ;  you  will  find  them  at 
the  camp,"  he  replied.  And  then,  out  of  the  honest 
English  heart  of  him :  "Have  you  made  your  peace, 
Captain?  Do  you  need  a  friend  to  go  with  you?" 

I  said  I  Had  been  granted  a  hearing  by  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  but  a  little  while  before ;  that  by  my  Lord's 
appointment  I  was  now  a  sort  of  honorary  aide-de- 
camp. 

"Good!"  said  the  lieutenant,  gripping  my  hand 
in  a  way  to  make  me  wince  for  the  lie-in-effect  hid- 
den in  the  simple  statement  of  fact.  Then  he 


386       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY. 

roared  at  the  soldier  standing  guard  at  the  house 
door  below:  "A  mount  for  Captain  Ireton — and 
be  swift  about  it !" 

He  held  me  in  talk  till  the  horse  was  fetched, 
happily  doing  most  of  the  talking  himself,  and  when 
I  was  in  the  saddle  gave  me  a  hearty  God-speed.  Be- 
ing so  sick  with  self-despisings,  I  fear  I  made  but 
a  poor  return  for  all  this  good  comradeship ;  but  at 
the  time  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  the  hell  that 
flamed  within  me,  and  of  how  I  could  soonest 
quench  the  fires  of  it. 

The  town,  which  I  had  not  seen  since  early  sum- 
mer, was  but  little  changed  by  the  British  occupa- 
tion, save  in  the  livening  of  it  by  the  near-at-hand 
camp  of  an  armed  host.  Being  but  a  halt-point  en 
route  in  the  northward  march,  it  was  not  fortified ; 
indeed,  for  the  matter  of  that,  the  camp  proper  was 
a  little  way  without  the  town,  as  I  have  said. 

I  rode  slowly  across  the  common,  skirting  the 
commissary's  quarters  and  making  mental  notes  of 
all  I  saw;  this  from  soldier  habit  solely,  for  at  the 
time  I  had  little  thought  of  living  on  to  make  a 
spy's  use  of  them.  Arrived  at  the  parade  ground, 
I  found  my  Lord  galloping  through  the  lines  on 
inspection,  and  so  I  must  draw  rein  in  the  back- 
ground and  wait  my  opportunity. 

The  pause  gave  space  for  some  eye-sweep  of 
the  scene,  and  all  the  soldier  blood  in  me  was 
stirred  by  the  sight,  the  first  I  had  had  in  many 
a  day,  of  a  well-ordered  army,  fit,  disciplined,  ma- 


I   RODE   POST   FOR   THE   KING    387 

chine-drilled  to  move  like  the  parts  of  a  wondrous 
mechanism. 

At  the  back  of  Lord  Cornwallis  and  his  gallop- 
ing suite,  Tarleton's  famous  light-horse  legion  was 
drawn  up;  and  fronting  it  was  the  infantry,  rank 
on  rank,  the  glittering  bayonets  slanting  in  the 
October  sunlight  as  the  regiments  moved  into  place, 
or  standing  in  rigid  groves  of  steel  at  the  command 
to  halt  and  port  arms. 

What  was  there  in  all  our  poor  raw  land  to  stand 
against  this  well-trained  host,  armed — as  we  were 
not — with  the  deadly  bayonet,  and  moving  as  one 
man  at  the  word  of  command?  Not  the  bravest 
home  guard  or  militia  troop,  I  thought;  and  this 
seeing  of  what  he  had  had  to  front  on  the  field  of 
Camden  made  me  think  less  scornfully  of  Horatio 
Gates. 

Riding  presently  around  the  field  to  be  the  nearer 
to  the  general  when  my  time  should  come,  I  missed 
the  mark  completely.  It  so  chanced  that  as  the 
parade  was  ended  my  Lord  and  his  suite  were  at 
the  extreme  right;  and  when  the  regiments  broke 
ranks  I  was  forced  to  skirt  the  entire  camp  to  come 
into  the  road.  By  this  time  those  I  sought  were 
gone  into  the  town,  so  I  must  needs  turn  about 
and  follow,  with  the  thing  I  had  to  say  still  un- 
spoken. 

I  need  not  drag  you  back  and  forth  with  me  on 
the  search  I  made  to  find  Lord  Cornwallis  again. 
Tis  enough  to  say  that  after  missing  him  here  and 
\ 


388       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY, 

there,  I  ran  him  to  earth  at  the  court  house,  where, 
it  was  told  me,  my  Lord  was  sitting  in  council  with 
his  staff  officers. 

Thinking  it  worse  than  useless  to  try  to  force  my 
way  into  the  council  chamber,  I  waited  in  the  raff 
of  soldiery  without,  cursing  the  delay  which  gave 
my  despairing  resolution  time  to  cool.  When  I  had 
closed  the  door  of  my  dear  lady's  chamber  behind  me 
I  was  resolved  to  fling  myself  upon  that  fate  which' 
needed  but  a  word  from  me  to  make  my  calling  and 
election  to  a  gibbet  swift  and  sure.  Had  I  found 
my  Lord  Cornwallis  in  his  bed-room  the  word  would 
have  been  spoken ;  but  now  the  iron  of  resolution 
cooled  in  spite  of  me. 

'Twas  not  that  I  was  less  willing  to  pay  the  price 
of  expiation;  that  must  be  done  in  any  case.  But 
I  had  seen  the  enemy,  and  all  the  soldier  in  me  re- 
belled at  the  thought  of  dying  like  a  noosed  bullock 
in  the  shambles.  Could  I  but  strike  that  one  good 
blow — 

The  old  court  house  of  our  greater  Mecklenburg 
was  such  as  some  of  you  may  remember;  a  stout 
wooden  building  raised  upon  brick  pillars  to  leave 
a  story  underneath.  In  the  time  of  the  British 
occupation  this  lower  story  served  as  a  market 
house,  and  the  public  entrance  to  the  court  room 
above  was  reached  by  steps  on  the  outside.  In  my 
boyhood  days  this  outer  stair  was  the  only  one; 
but  now  in  wandering  aimlessly  through'  the  mar- 
ket-place beneath  I  found  another  flight  in  a  cor- 
ner; the  "jury  stair,"  they  called  it,  since  it  pro- 


I    RODE    POST   FOR   THE    KING    389 

vided  the  means  of  egress  from  the  jury  box 
above. 

The  sight  of  this  inner  stair  set  me  plotting. 
Could  I  make  use  of  it  to  come  unseen  into  the 
council  chamber  of  Lord  Cornwallis  and  his  of- 
ficers ? 

The  market-place  was  well  thronged  with  venders 
and  soldier  buyers ;  the  patriotic  Mecklenburgers 
were  not  averse  to  the  turning  of  an  honest  penny 
upon  the  needs  of  their  oppressors,  as  it  seemed.  I 
watched  my  chance,  and  when  there  were  no  prying 
eyes  to  mark  it,  made  the  dash  up  the  steps. 

Happily  for  the  success  of  the  adventure  there 
was  an  angle  in  the  narrow  stair  to  hide  me  whilst 
I  lifted  the  trap  door  in  the  court-room  floor  a  scant 
half-inch  and  got  my  bearings.  As  I  had  hoped, 
the  trap  opened  behind  the  jury  box,  and  I  was  able 
to  raise  it  cautiously  and  so  to  draw  myself  up  into 
the  room  above,  unseen  and  unheard. 

A  peep  around  the  corner  of  the  high  jury  stalls 
showed  me  my  Lord  and  his  suite  gathered  about  the 
lawyers'  table  in  front  of  the  bar.  Of  the  staff  I 
recognized  only  Stedman,  the  commissary-general ; 
Tarleton,  looking  something  the  worse  for  his  late 
illness;  Major  Hanger,  his  second  in  command, 
and  the  young  Irishman,  Lord  Rawdon. 

At  the  moment  of  my  espial,  Cornwallis  was  speak- 
ing, and  I  drew  back  to  listen,  well  enough  content 
to  be  in  earshot.  For  if  my  good  angel  had  timed 
my  coming  I  could  not  have  arrived  at  a  more  op- 
portune moment. 


390       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"What  we  have  to  consider  now  is  how  best  to 
reach  Ferguson  with  an  express  instantly,"  his 
Lordship  was  saying.  "This  rising  of  the  over- 
mountain  men  is  likely  to  prove  a  serious  matter — 
not  only  for  the  major,  but  for  the  king's  cause 
in  the  two  provinces.  Lacking  positive  orders  to 
the  contrary,  Ferguson  will  fight — we  all  know  that ; 
and  if  he  should  be  defeated  'twill  hopelessly  undo 
his  work  among  the  border  loyalists  and  set  us  back 
another  twelvemonth." 

"Then  your  Lordship  will  order  him  to  come  in 
with  what  he  has?"  said  a  voice  which  I  knew  for 
Colonel  Tarleton's. 

"Instanter,  had  I  a  sure  man  to  send." 

"Pshaw!  I  can  find  you  a  hundred  amongst  the 
late  royalist  recruits."  'Twas  young  Lord  Rawdon 
who  said  this. 

"Damn  them!"  said  his  Lordship  shortly;  "I 
would  sooner  trust  this  new  aide  of  mine.  He 
comes  straight  from  the  major  and  can  find  his  way 
back  again." 

Tarleton  laughed.  "I  fear  we  shall  never  agree 
upon  him,  my  Lord.  I  know  not  how  he  has  made 
his  peace  with  you,  but  I  do  assure  you  he  is  as  great 
a  rascal  as  ever  went  unhung.  'Tis  true,  as  you  say, 
I  did  not  go  into  the  particulars ;  but  were  Captain 
Stuart  or  Sir  Francis  Falconnet  here,  either  of 
them  would  convince  your  Lordship  in  a  twinkling." 

There  was  silence  for  a  little  space  following  the 
colonel's  denunciation  of  me,  and  then  my  Lord 
broke  it  to  say :  "I  may  not  be  so  credulous  as  you 


I   RODE   POST   FOR   THE   KING    391 

think,  Colonel.  Rebel  spy  or  true-blue  loyalist,  He 
is  safe  enough  for  the  present.  In  the  meantime 
in  this  matter  of  reaching  Ferguson  we  may  make 
good  use  of  him." 

"In  what  manner,  your  Lordship?"  asked  one 
whose  voice  I  did  not  recognize. 

"He  has  come  straight  from  Major  Ferguson,  as 
I  say ;  and,  loyalist  or  rebel,  he  can  find  his  way  back 
to  Gilbert  Town." 

"But  you'll  never  be  trusting  him  with  de- 
spatches !''  said  Lord  Rawdon. 

"There  is  no  need  to  trust  him.  He  can  be  given 
the  despatches  with  some  hint  of  their  purport,  and 
of  how  much  the  king's  cause  will  profit  by  their 
safe  delivery." 

Again  a  silence  fell  upon  the  group  around  the 
lawyers'  table,  and  then  some  one — 'twas  Major 
Hanger,  as  I  thought — said :  "  'Tis  an  unread  rid- 
dle for  me  as  yet,  my  Lord." 

Cornwallis  laughed.  "Where  are  your  wits  this 
morning,  gentlemen?  If  he  be  loyal  and  true,  the 
despatches  will  go  safe  enough.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  be  a  rebel  and  a  spy,  he  will  doubtless 
tamper  with  them;  but  in  that  case  he  will  none 
the  less  ride  straight  enough  to  Major  Ferguson's 
headquarters  in  the  West." 

"H'm;  your  Lordship  is  still  too  deep  for  me," 
said  Tarleton's  second  in  command.  "If  he  be  a 
rebel  and  a  spy,  why,  in  God's  name,  should  he  carry 
your  Lordship's  letters  to  any  but  some  rag-tag 
colonel  of  his  own  kidney?" 


392        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

My  Lord  laughed  again.  "Truly,  Major,  you 
should  go  to  a  dame's  school  and  learn  diplomacy. 
If  we  tell  him  beforehand  what  our  object  is,  how 
could  any  rebel  of  them  all  defeat  it  more  surely 
than  by  going  to  Ferguson  with  a  garbled  message 
that  would  make  him  stand  and  fight  a  losing  bat- 
tle?" 

"But,  my  Lord — the  risk !"  cut  in  the  commissary- 
general. 

"There  need  be  none.  An  hour  after  he  sets  out 
we  shall  send  a  mounted  detail  after  him  with  an 
Indian  tracker  to  nose  out  his  trail.  The  lieutenant 
in  command  will  carry  duplicate  despatches.  At 
the  worst,  Ireton  will  guide  these  followers  to  Fer- 
guson's rendezvous;  and,  so  far  as  we  know,  he  is 
the  only  man  who  knows  exactly  where  to  find  the 
major." 

I  had  heard  enough.  Under  cover  of  the  chorus 
of  bravos  raised  by  Lord  Cornwallis's  explication  of 
his  plot  within  a  plot,  I  lifted  the  trap-door  and 
made  my  exit  as  noiselessly  as  I  had  come. 

Guessing  that  no  time  would  be  lost  in  putting 
the  plan  into  action,  I  made  haste  to  be  found 
inquiring  hither  and  yon  for  the  commander-in- 
chief  when  my  Lord  and  his  suite  came  down  the 
outer  stair;  and  when  we  were  met  I  was  quickly 
told  of  my  assignment  to  courier  duty. 

"Make  your  preparations  to  take  the  road  within 
the  hour,  and  report  to  me  at  Friend  Stair's,"  said 
my  Lord,  most  affably.  "We  shall  put  your  new- 
found loyalty  to  the  test,  Captain  Ireton,  by  entrust- 


I   RODE   POST    FOR   THE   KING    393 

ing  you  with  a  most  important  mission.  Go  with 
the  commissary-general  and  he  will  find  you  your 
mount  and  equipment." 

Thus  dismissed,  I  went  with  Stedman,  and  was 
accorded  a  more  gentlemanly  welcome  than  my 
overhearings  had  given  me  leave  to  expect. 

On  the  way  to  the  horse  paddock  the  commissary- 
general  told  me  of  his  plan  to  write  a  history  of 
the  campaign ;  a  bit  of  confidence  which  set  me 
laughing  inwardly  and  wondering  if  he  would  put 
one  John  Ireton,  sometime  of  the  Scots  Blues,  and 
late  captain  in  her  Apostolic  Majesty's  Hussars,  be- 
tween the  covers  of  his  book.  'Tis  small  wonder 
that  he  did  not.  I  have  since  had  the  pleasure  of 
reading  his  history  of  the  great  war,  and  I  find  it 
curiously  lacking  in  those  incidents  which  did  not 
redound  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  king's  cause 
and  army  in  the  field. 

Not  to  digress,however,  my  makeshift  mount  was 
soon  exchanged  for  a  better ;  I  was  allowed  to  draw 
what  I  would  of  accoutrements  and  provender  from 
the  king's  stores ;  and  so,  to  cut  it  short,  I  was 
presently  at  the  door  of  my  Lord's  headquarters 
fully  equipped  and  ready  for  the  road. 

I  did  hope  in  those  last  few  moments  that  I  might 
have  a  chance  to  exchange  a  word  with  my  dear 
lady ;  might  ask  her  forgiveness,  or,  failing  so  much 
grace  of  her,  might  at  least  have  another  sight  of 
her  sweet  face. 

But  even  this  poor  boon  was  denied  me.  I  was 
scarce  out  of  the  saddle  when  an  aide  came  to 


394       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

conduct  me  to  the  general,  and  I  saw  no  one  in  the 
house  save  my  Lord  himself. 

As  you  would  guess,  my  instructions  conformed 
exactly  to  the  plan  outlined  by  Lord  Cornwallis  in 
the  council.  I  was  entrusted  with  a  sealed  packet 
for  delivery  to  Major  Ferguson,  and,  for  safety's 
sake,  as  my  Lord  explained,  I  was  given  the  meat 
of  the  message  to  deliver  verbally  should  the  need 
arise.  Ferguson  was  to  be  ordered  to  come  in  in- 
stantly by  forced  marches,  if  necessary,  and  he  was 
on  no  account  to  risk  a  battle  with  the  over-mountain 
men. 

You  may  be  sure,  my  dears,  that  I  scarce  drew 
breath  till  I  was  a-horse  and  out  of  the  town  and 
galloping  hard  on  the  road  to  that  ford  of  Master 
Macgowan's  which  afterward  became  famous  in  our 
history  under  the  misspelling  "Cowan's  Ford." 
Twas  too  good  to  be  true  that  I  should  be  thrust 
thus  into  the  very  gaping  mouth  of  opportunity,  and 
now  and  again  I  would  feel  the  packet  buttoned 
tight  beneath  my  hussar  jacket  to  make  sure  'twas 
not  a  dream  to  vanish  at  a  touch. 

In  the  mad  joy  of  it  the  spirit  of  prophecy  came 
upon  me,  and  I  saw  as  if  the  thing  were  done,  how 
at  last  I  held  the  fate  of  the  patriot  cause  in  all 
our  west  country  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand. 


XXXVII 


Skipping  lightly  over  the  happenings  of  the  two 
days  following  my  departure  from  Charlotte  on 
the  king's  errand,  I  may  say  that  after  passing  the 
British  outposts  at  the  crossing  of  the  Catawba,  I 
met  neither  friend  nor  foe;  and  from  noon  on  I 
rode  to  the  westward  through  a  pitiless  drizzling 
rain,  splashed  to  the  belt  with  the  mire  of  the  road, 
and  having  little  chance  to  inquire  my  way. 

This  last  lack  grew  with  the  passing  hours  to  the 
size  of  a  threatening  hazard.  As  you  may  have 
guessed,  I  knew  no  more  than  a  blind  man  the  route 
I  should  take ;  knew  no  more  of  the  whereabouts  of 
Gilbert  Town  and  Major  Ferguson's  rendezvous 
than  that  both  were  some  eighty  miles  to  the  west- 
ward. 

At  the  outset  I  had  thought  to  feel  out  the  way 
in  general  by  cautious  inquiry  along  the  road ;  but 
when  I  came  to  consider  of  this,  the  risk  of  betraying 
my  ignorance  to  those  who  followed  me  was  too 
great  to  let  me  turn  aside  to  any  of  the  wayside 
houses ;  and  as  for  chance  passers-by,  there  were 
none — the  rain  kept  all  within  doors. 
395 


396       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

So  I  was  constrained  to  gallop  on  without  pause ; 
and  throughout  that  comfortless  afternoon  and  the 
scarce  less  miserable  day  which  followed,  there  were 
no  incidents  to  break  the  dull  monotony  of  the  blind 
race  save  these  two;  that  once  the  clouds  lifted 
enough  to  give  me  a  glimpse  of  my  pursuers  in  a 
far  reach  to  the  eastward ;  and  once  again  I  had  a 
sight  of  an  awkward  horseman  in  the  road  before 
me — saw  him  and  tried  to  overtake  him,  and  could 
not,  for  all  his  clumsy  riding. 

Now  I  was  curious  about  this  lone  horseman 
ahead  for  more  reasons  than  one,  but  chiefly  be- 
cause my  glimpse  of  him  seemed  to  show  me  the 
back  of  a  man  whom  I  made  sure  I  had  left  safe 
behind  in  the  British  guard-house  in  Charlotte,  to 
wit :  the  scoundrelly  little  pettifogger. 

At  first  I  scoffed  at  the  idea.  Saying  he  were  free 
to  leave  Charlotte,  how  should  he  be  riding  post 
on  my  haphazard  road  to  the  westward?.  'Twas 
against  all  reason,  and  yet  the  tittuping  figure  of 
which  I  had  but  a  rain-veiled  glimpse  named  itself 
Owen  Pengarvin  in  spite  of  all  the  reasons  I  could 
bring  to  bear. 

'Twas  close  on  eventide  of  the  second  day,  the 
early  evening  gloaming  of  a  chill  autumnal  rain- 
day,  and  I  had  been  since  morning  dubiously  lost 
in  the  somber  trackless  forest,  when  an  elfish  cry 
rose,  as  it  would  seem,  from  beneath  the  very  hoofs 
of  my  horse. 

"God  save  the  king!" 

The  bay  shied  suddenly,  standing  witK  nostrils 


WHAT   BEFELL   AT   THE   CREEK    397 

a-quiver;  and  I  had  to  look  closely  to  make  out 
the  little  brown  dot  of  humanity  clad  in  russet 
homespun  crouching  in  the  path,  its  childish  eyes 
wide  with  fear  and  its  lips  parted  to  shrill  again: 
"God  save  the  king!" 

I  threw  a  stiff  leg  over  the  cantle  and  swung  down 
to  go  on  one  knee  to  my  stout  challenger.  I  can 
never  make  you  understand,  my  dears,  how  the 
sight  of  this  helpless  waif  appearing  thus  unaccount- 
ably in  the  heart  of  the  great  forest  mellowed  and 
softened  me.  'Twas  a  little  maid,  not  above  three 
or  four  years  old,  and  with  a  face  that  Master 
Raphael  might  have  taken  as  a  pattern  for  one  of  his 
seraphs. 

"What  know  you  of  the  king,  little  one?"  I 
asked. 

"Gran'dad  told  me,"  she  lisped.  "If  I  was  to 
see  a  soldier-man  I  must  say,  quick,  'God  save  the 
king,'  or  'haps  he'd  eat  me.  Is — is  you  hungry, 
Mister  Soldier-man  ?" 

"Truly  I  am  that,  sweetheart;  but  I  don't  eat 
little  maids.  Where  is  your  grandfather?" 

"Ain't  got  any  gran'favver;  I  said  'gran'dad.' " 

"Well,  your  gran'dad,  then;  can  you  take  me  to 
him?" 

"I  don't  know.     'Haps  you'd  eat  him." 

"No  fear  of  that,  my  dear.  Do  I  look  as  if  I 
ate  people  ?" 

She  gave  me  a  long  scrutiny  out  of  the  innocent 
eyes  and  then  put  up  two  little  brown  hands  to  be 
taken.  "I  tired,"  she  said ;  and  my  sore  heart  went 


398       THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY 

warm  within  me  when  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and 
cuddled  her.  After  a  long-drawn  sigh  of  content- 
ment, she  said:  "My  name  Polly;  what's  yours?" 

"You  may  call  me  Jack,  if  you  please — Captain 
Jack,  if  that  comes  the  easier.  And  now  will  you 
let  me  take  you  to  your  gran'dad  ?" 

She  nodded,  and  I  spoke  to  the  bay  and  mounted, 
still  holding  her  closely  in  my  arms. 

"Tell  me  quickly  which  way  to  go,  Polly,"  I  said ; 
for  besides  being,  as  I  would  fear,  far  out  of  the 
way  to  Gilbert  Town,  the  last  hilltop  to  the  rear 
had  given  me  another  sight  of  my  shadowing  pur- 
suers riding  hard  as  if  they  meant  to  overtake  me. 

The  little  maid  sat  up  straight  on  the  saddle  horn 
and  looked  about  her  as  if  to  get  her  bearings. 

"That  way,"  she  said,  pointing  short  to  the  right ; 
and  I  wheeled  the  horse  into  a  blind  path  that  wound 
in  and  out  among  the  trees  for  a  long  half  mile, 
to  end  at  a  little  clearing  on  the  banks  of  a  small 
stream. 

In  the  midst  of  the  clearing  was  a  rude  log  cabin ; 
and  in  the  open  doorway  stood  a  man  bent  and  aged, 
a  patriarchal  figure  with  white  hair  falling  to  his 
shoulders  and  a  snowy  beard  such  as  Aaron  might 
have  worn.  At  sight  of  me  the  old  watcher  disap- 
peared within  the  house,  but  a  moment  later  he  was 
out  again,  fingering  the  lock  of  an  ancient  Queen's- 
arm. 

I  drew  rein  quickly,  and  the  little  maid  sat  up  and 
saw  the  musket. 


WHAT   BEFELL  AT   THE   CREEK    399 

"Don't  shoot,  gran'dad !"  she  cried.  "He's  Cap- 
py  Jack,  and  he  does  n't  eat  folkses." 

At  this  the  old  man  came  to  meet  us,  though  still 
with  the  clumsy  musket  held  at  the  ready. 

"These  be  parlous  times,  sir,"  he  said,  half  in 
apology,  I  thought.  And  then:  "You  have  made 
friends  with  my  little  maid,  and  I  owe  you  somewhat 
for  bringing  her  safe  home." 

"Nay,"  said  I;  "the  debt  is  mine,  inasmuch  as  I 
have  the  little  one  for  my  friend.  'Tis  long  since 
I  have  held  a  trusting  child  in  my  arms,  I  do  assure 
you,  sir." 

He  bowed  as  grandly  as  any  courtier.  "I  hope 
her  trust  is  not  misplaced,  sir ;  though  for  the  matter 
of  that,  we  have  little  enough  now  to  take  or  leave." 

"You  have  given  it  all  to  the  king?"  said  I,  feel- 
ing my  way  as  I  had  need  to. 

His  eyes  flashed  and  he  drew  himself  up  proudly. 

"The  king  has  taken  all,  sir,  as  you  see,"  this 
with  a  wave  of  the  hand  to  point  me  to  the  forlorn 
homestead.  "There  is  naught  left  me  save  this 
poor  hut  and  my  little  maid." 

"  'Taken,'  you  say  ?  Then  you  are  not  of  the 
king's  side?" 

He  came  a  step  nearer  and  faced  me  boldly. 
"Listen,  sir :  two  of  my  sons  were  left  on  the  bloody 
field  of  Camden,  and  the  butcher  Banastre  Tarleton 
slew  the  other  two  at  Fishing  Creek.  A  month 
since  a  band  of  roving  savages,  armed  with  King 
George's  muskets,  mind  you,  sir,  came  down  upon 
us  at  Northby,  and  this  little  maid's  mother — " 


400       THE   MASTER   OK  APPLEBYi 

He  stopped  and  choked ;  and  the  child  looked  up 
into  my  face  with  her  blue  eyes  full  of  nameless 
terror.  "Oh,  I  want  my  mammy !"  she  said. 
"Won't  you  find  her  for  me,  Cappy  Jack  ?" 

I  slipped  from  the  saddle,  still  clasping  the  little 
one  tightly  in  my  arms. 

"Enough,  sir,"  I  said,  when  I  could  trust  myself 
to  speak.  "This  same  King  George's  minions  have 
made  me  a  homeless  outcast,  too.  I  live  but  to  give 
some  counter  stroke,  if  I  may." 

"Ha!"  said  the  old  man,  starting  back;  "then 
you  are  for  our  side  ?  But  your  uniform — " 

"Is  that  of  an  Austrian  officer,  my  good  sir, 
which  I  should  right  gladly  exchange  for  the  buff 
and  blue,  but  that  I  can  serve  the  cause  better  in 
this." 

He  dropped  the  Queen's-arm,  took  the  child  from 
me  and  bade  me  welcome  to  his  cabin  and  all  it 
held.  But  I  was  not  minded  to  make  him  a  sharer 
in  my  private  peril. 

"No,"  said  I.  "Tell  me  how  I  may  find  Gilbert 
Town  and  Major  Ferguson's  rendezvous,  and  I  will 
ride  whilst  I  can  see  the  way." 

He  looked  at  me  narrowly.  "Ferguson  left  Gil- 
bert Town  some  days  since.  If  'tis  the  place  you 
seek,  you  are  gone  far  out  of  your  way ;  if  'tis  the 
man — " 

"  'Tis  the  man,"  I  cut  in  hastily. 

The  patriarch  shook  his  head. 

"If  you  be  of  our  side,  as  you  say,  he  will  hang 
you  out  of  hand." 


WHAT   BEFELL   AT   THE   CREEK    401 

"So  I  can  make  my  errand  good,  I  care  little 
how  soon  he  hangs  me." 

"And  what  may  your  errand  be  ?  Mayhap  I  can 
help  you." 

"It  is  to  bring  him  to  a  stand  till  the  mountain 
men  can  overtake  him." 

The  old  man  trembled  with  excitement  like  a 
boy  going  into  his  first  battle. 

"Ah,  if  you  could — if  you  could !"  he  cried.  "But 
'tis  too  late,  now.  Listen :  his  present  camp  is  but 
three  miles  to  the  westward  on  Buffalo  Creek.  I 
was  there  no  longer  ago  than  the  Wednesday.  I — 
I  made  my  submission  to  him — curse  him — so  that 
I  might  mayhap  learn  of  his  plans.  He  told  me  all ; 
how  that  now  he  was  safe;  that  the  mountaineers 
were  gone  off  from  the  fording  of  the  Broad  on  a 
false  scent ;  that  Tarleton  with  four  hundred  of  the 
legion  would  soon  be  marching  to  his  relief. 

"I  stole  away  when  I  could,  and  that  night  took 
horse  and  rode  twenty  miles  to  Tom  Sumter's  camp 
at  Flint  Hill — all  to  little  purpose,  I  fear.  Poor 
Tom  is  still  desperately  sick  of  his  Fishing  Creek 
wounds,  and  Colonel  Lacey  was  the  only  officer 
fit  to  go  after  Shelby  and  the  mountain  men  to  set 
them  straight.  I  should  have  gone  myself,  but — " 

"Stay,  my  good  friend,"  said  I ;  "you  go  too  fast 
for  me.  If  Ferguson  is  still  out  of  communication 
with  the  main  at  Charlotte,  we  may  halt  him  yet." 

The  old  man  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  'Tis  a  thing  done  because  it  is  as  good  as  done. 
The  major  will  break  camp  and  march  to-morrow 


402       THE  MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

morning,  and  fie  can  reach  Charlotte  at  ease  in  two 
days.  What  with  their  losing  of  his  trail,  the  moun- 
tain men  are  those  same  two  days  behind  him." 

"None  the  less,  we  shall  halt  him,"  said  I.  "Have 
you  ever  an  inkhorn  and  a  quill  in  your  cabin  ?" 

"Both;  at  your  service,  sir.  But  I  can  not  un- 
derstand— " 

"We  may  call  it  the  little  maid's  judgment  on 
those  who  have  made  her  fatherless.  But  for  her 
stopping  of  me  I  should  have  come  unprepared  into 
the  camp  of  the  enemy.  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  letter 
from  Lord  Cornwallis  to  this  same  Major  Fergu- 
son." 

"You? — a  bearer  of  Lord  Cornwallis's  de- 
spatches?" The  old  man  put  a  blade's  length  be- 
tween us  and  held  the  little  one  aloft  as  if  he  feared 
I  might  do  her  a  mischief.  I  laughed  and  bade  him 
be  comforted. 

"  'Tis  a  long  story,  and  I  may  not  take  the  time 
to  tell  it  now.  But  a  word  will  suffice.  Like  your- 
self, I  made  my  submission — and  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. My  Lord  accepted  it  and  made  me  his  de- 
spatch-bearer because  he  thought  I  knew  the  way 
to  Ferguson  when  no  one  else  knew  it.  But  enough 
of  this;  time  presses.  Let  me  have  ink  and  the 
quill." 

The  old  man  led  the  way  into  the  cabin  and 
put  his  writing  tools  at  my  disposal.  Left  to  my- 
self, I  should  have  broken  the  seal  of  the  packet; 
but  my  wise  old  ally,  cool  and  collected  now,  showed 
me  how  to  split  the  paper  beneath  the  wax.  Opened 


WHAT   BEFELL  AT   THE   CREEK    403 

and  spread  before  us  on  the  rude  slab  table,  the  let- 
ter proved  to  be  the  briefest  of  military  commands : 
a  peremptory  order  to  Ferguson  to  rejoin  the  main 
body  at  once,  proceeding  by  forced  marches  if  need- 
ful, and  on  no  account  to  risk  engagement  with  the 
over-mountain  men. 

How  to  change  such  an  order  to  reverse  it  in  ef- 
fect, I  knew  no  more  than  a  yokel ;  but  here  again 
my  ancient  ally  showed  himself  a  man  of  parts. 
Dressing  the  pen  to  make  it  the  fellow  of  that  used 
by  my  Lord  Cornwallis,  he  scanned  the  handwrit- 
ing of  the  letter  closely,  made  a  few  practice  pot- 
hooks to  get  the  imitative  hang  of  it,  and  wrote  this 
postscriptum  at  the  bottom  of  the  sheet. 

Since  writing  the  foregoing  I  have  your  courier 
and  his  despatches.  Lieutenant-colonel  Tarlcton, 
with  four  hundred  of  the  legion,  will  take  the  road 
for  you  to-night.  If  battle  is  forced  upon  you,  make 
a  stand  and  hold  the  enemy  in  check  till  reinforce- 
ments come.  Cornwallis. 

The  old  man  sanded  the  wet  penstrokes  and  bade 
me  say  if  it  would  serve.  'Twas  a  most  beautiful 
forgery.  My  Lord's  crabbed  handwriting  was 
copied  to  a  nicety,  and  of  the  two  signatures  I  doubt 
if  the  earl  himself  could  have  told  which  was  his 
own;  'twas  the  same  circle  "C,"  the  same  printing 
"r,"  the  same  heavy  precision  throughout. 

"Capital !"  said  I.  "Now,  if  the  lightning  would 
but  strike  these  pursuers  of  mine,  we  should  have 
the  Scotsman  at  bay  in  a  hand's  turn." 

"How  ?"  said  the  patriarch ;  "are  you  followed  ?" 


404       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

I  told  him  I  was;  told  him  of  my  Lord's  plot 
within  a  plot — that  three  light-horse  riders,  one  of 
them  a  lieutenant  bearing  duplicate  despatches,  had 
been  hard  upon  my  heels  all  the  way  from  Char- 
lotte. 

At  this  the  old  warhorse — I  learned  afterward 
that  he  had  fought  through  the  French  and  Indian 
war — wagged  his  beard  and  his  eye  flashed. 

"We  must  stop  them,"  he  said.  "Three  of  them, 
do  you  say  ?" 

"Three  white  men  and  an  Indian  trailer." 

"Ha!  If  it  were  not  for  the  little  maid.  .  .  . 
Let  me  think." 

He  fell  to  pacing  up  and  down  before  the  fire 
on  the  hearth,  and  I  took  the  small  one  on  my  knee 
to  let  her  chatter  to  me.  'Twas  five  full  minutes 
before  my  ancient  gave  me  the  worth  of  his  cogi- 
tations, but  when  he  did  speak  it  was  much  to  the 
purpose. 

"These  marplot  rear-guards  of  yours  will  spoil  it 
all  if  they  come  to  Ferguson's  camp  either  before 
or  after  you.  Do  they  know  the  major's  present 
whereabouts  ?" 

"No  more  than  I  did  an  hour  ago.  As  I  take  it, 
they  are  depending  on  me  to  show  them  the  way." 

"Well,  then  ;  dead  men  tell  no  tales." 

"But,  my  good  friend,  you  forget  there  are  four 
of  them  and  only  two  of  us !  We  should  stand  little 
chance  with  them  in  fair  fight." 

Again  the  old  man's  eyes  snapped  and  glowed 
as  if  pent-fires  were  behind  them. 


WHAT    BEFELL   AT   THE   CREEK    405 

"Was  it  fair  fight  when  Tarleton's  men  rode  in 
upon  Tom  Sumter's  rest  camp  at  Fishing  Creek 
and  cut  down  this  little  maid's  father  whilst  he  was 
naked  and  bathing  in  the  stream  ?  Was  it  fair  fight 
when  King  George's  Indian  devils  came  down  in 
the  dead  of  night  upon  our  defenseless  house  at 
Xorthby  ?  Never  talk  to  me  of  fairness,  sir,  whilst 
all  this  bloody  tyranny  is  afoot  I" 

I  thought  upon  it  for  a  little  space.  'Twas  none 
so  easy  to  decide.  On  one  hand,  stern  loyalty  to 
the  cause  I  had  espoused  passed  instant  sentence 
on  these  four  men  whose  lives  stood  in  the  way; 
on  the  other,  common  humanity  cried  out  and  called 
it  murder. 

Never  smile,  my  dears,  and  hint  that  I  had  found 
me  a  new  heart  of  mercy  since  that  ambush-killing  of 
the  three  Cherokee  peace-men  in  the  lone  valley  of 
the  western  mountains.  We  did  but  give  the  savages 
a  dole  out  of  their  own  store  of  cruel  cunning  and 
ferocity.  But  as  for  these  my  trackers,  three  of 
them,  at  least,  were  soldiers  and  men  of  my  own 
race.  I  could  not  do  it. 

"No,"  said  I,  firmly.  "These  followers  of  mine 
must  be  stopped,  as  you  say,  else  there  is  no  need  of 
my  going  on.  But  there  must  be  no  butcher's 
work." 

The  patriarch  frowned  and  wagged  his  beard 
again. 

"A  true  patriot  should  hold  himself  ready  to 
give  his  own  life  or  take  another's,"  quoth  he. 

"Truly;  and  I  am  most  willing  on  both  heads. 


But  we  have  had  enough  and  more  than  enougK  of 
midnight  massacre." 

.  Where  this  argument  would  have  led  us  in  the 
end,  I  know  not,  since  we  were  both  waxing  warm 
upon  it.  But  in  the  midst  the  little  maid  came 
running  from  the  open  door,  her  blue  eyes  wide 
in  childish  terror. 

:  "Injun  man!"  was  all  she  could  say;  but  that 
was  enough.  At  a  bound  I  reached  the  door.  An 
Indian  was  at  my  horse's  head,  loosing  the  halter, 
as  I  thought.  Before  he  could  twist  to  face  me  the 
point  of  the  Ferara  was  at  his  back. 

Luckily,  he  had  the  wit  not  to  move.  "No  kill 
Uncanoola,"  he  muttered,  this  without  the  stirring 
of  a  muscle.  Then,  as  if  he  were  talking  to  the 
horse:  "White  squaw,  she  send  'um  word;  say 
'good  by.' " 

My  point  dropped  as  if  another  blade  had  parried 
the  thrust. 

I  "Mistress  Margery,  you  mean?  Do  you  come 
from  her  ?" 

"She  send  'um  word ;  say  'good  by/  "  he  repeated. 

"What  else  did  she  say?"  I  demanded. 

"No  say  anyt'ing  else :  say  'good  by.'  "  He  turned 
upon  me  at  that  and  I  saw  why  he  had  kept  his  face 
averted.  He  had  on  the  war  paint  of  a  Cherokee 
chief. 

"Uncanoola   good   Chelakee   now,"  he   grinned. 
"Help    redcoat    soldier    find    Captain    Long-knife. 
:Wah!" 

I  saw  his  drift,  and  though  I  knew  his  courage 


WHAT   BEFELL  AT   THE   CREEK    407 

well,  the  boldness  of  the  thing  staggered  me.  He, 
too,  had  penetrated  to  the  inner  lines  of  the  British 
encampment  at  Charlotte ;  and  when  they  had  sought 
an  Indian  tracker  to  lift  my  trail,  'twas  he  who  had 
volunteered.  But  now  my  spirits  rose.  With  this 
unexpected  ally  we  might  hope  to  deal  forcefully  and 
yet  fairly  with  my  rear-guard. 

"Where  are  your  masters  now?"  I  asked. 

He  spat  upon  the  ground.  "Catawba  chief  has 
no  master,"  he  said,  proudly.  "Redcoat  pale-faces 
yonder,"  pointing  back  the  way  I  had  come.  "Make 
fire,  boil  tea,  sing  song,  heap  smoke  pipe." 

"We  must  take  them,"  said  I. 

He  nodded.     "Kill  'urn  all;  take  scalp.     Wah!" 

The  bloodthirstiness  of  my  two  allies  was  appall- 
ing. But  I  undertook  to  cool  the  Indian's  ardor, 
explaining  that  the  redcoat  soldiers  were  the  Long- 
knife's  brothers,  in  a  way,  not  to  be  slain  save  in 
honorable  battle.  I  am  not  sure  whether  I  earned 
the  Catawba's  contempt,  or  his  pity  for  my  weak- 
ness; but  since  he  was  loyal  to  the  son  of  his  old 
benefactor  first,  and  a  savage  afterward,  he  yielded 
the  point. 

So  now  I  made  him  known  to  my  patriarchal  host, 
who  all  this  time  had  been  standing  guard  at  the 
cabin  door  with  the  old  Queen's-arm  for  a  weapon. 
So  we  three  sat  on  the  door-stone  and  planned  it 
out.  When  the  night  was  far  enough  advanced,  we 
would  stalk  the  soldiers  in  their  camp,  sparing  life 
as  we  could. 

When  all  was  settled,  the  old  man  gave  us  a  sup- 


408       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

per  of  his  humble  fare,  after  which  we  went  into 
the  open  again  to  sit  out  the  hours  of  waiting.  The 
rain  had  ceased,  but  the  night  was  cloudy  and  the 
darkness  a  soft  black  veil  to  shroud  the  nearest 
objects.  High  overhead  the  autumn  wind  was  sigh- 
ing in  the  tree-tops,  and  now  and  again  a  sharper 
gust  would  bring  down  a  pattering  volley  of  lodged 
rain-drops  on  the  fallen  leaves. 

Uncanoola  sat  apart  in  stoical  silence,  smoking 
his  long-stemmed  pipe.  The  old  man  and  I  talked 
in  low  tones,  or  rather  he  would  tell  me  of  his  past 
whilst  I  sat  and  listened,  holding  the  little  maid  in 
my  arms. 

After  a  time  the  child  fell  asleep,  and  I  craved  per- 
mission to  put  her  in  the  little  crib  bed  in  the  chim- 
ney corner.  The  flickering  light  of  the  fire  fell 
upon  her  innocent  face  when  I  loosed  the  clasp  of 
the  tiny  hands  about  my  neck  and  laid  her  down. 
Again  the  wave  of  softness  submerged  me  and  I 
bent  to  leave  a  kiss  upon  the  sweet  unconscious 
lips. 

Ah,  my  dears,  you  may  smile  again,  if  you  will; 
but  at  that  moment  I  had  a  far-off  glimpse  of  the 
beatitude  of  fatherhood ;  I  was  no  longer  the  hard 
old  soldier  I  have  drawn  for  you ;  I  was  but  a  man, 
hungering  and  thirsting  for  the  love  of  a  wife  and 
trusting,  clinging  little  children  like  this  sweet  maid. 

I  rose,  turning  my  back  upon  the  chimney  corner 
and  its  holdings  with  a  sigh.  For  now  the  time  was 
come  for  action,  and  I  must  needs  be  a  man  of  blood 
and  iron  again. 


WHAT   BEFELL   AT   THE   CREEK    409 

Lacking  the  Catawba  to  guide  us,  I  doubt  if 
either  the  old  man  or  I  could  have  found  my  rear- 
guard's bivouac  near  the  trail  I  had  left.  But  Un- 
canoola  led  us  straight  through  the  pitchy  dark- 
ness; and  when  we  were  come  upon  the  three 
soldiers  we  found  them  all  asleep  around  the  hand- 
ful of  camp-fire. 

'Twould  have  been  murder  outright  to  kill  them 
thus;  and  now  I  think  the  old  patriarch  forgot  his 
wrongs  and  was  as  merciful  as  I.  But  not  so  the 
Catawba.  He  had  armed  himself  with  a  stout  war- 
club,  and  before  I  was  free  to  stop  him  he  had 
knocked  two  of  the  three  sleepers  senseless,  and 
would  have  battered  out  their  brains  but  for  the  old 
man's  intervention. 

As  for  the  officer,  I  had  flung  myself  upon  him 
in  the  rush  and  was  having  a  pretty  handful  of 
him.  But  though  he  was  broad  in  the  shoulders, 
and  as  agile  as  a  cat,  he  was  taken  at  a  sleeping 
man's  disadvantage,  and  so  I  presently  had  the  bet- 
ter of  him. 

"Enough,  man !  'tis  as  good  as  a  feast !"  he  cried, 
when  I  had  him  fast  pinioned;  and  thereupon  I  let 
him  have  breath  and  freedom  to  sit  up.  In  the  act 
he  had  his  first  good  sight  of  me,  as  I  had  mine  of 
him.  'Twas  Tybee  and  no  other. 

"Gad !  my  Captain,"  he  said,  feeling  his  throat. 
"If  you  have  a  grip  like  that  for  your  friends,  I'm 
damned  glad  I'm  not  your  enemy." 

"But  you  are,"  I  rejoined,  rather  shamefacedly, 
yet  thankful  to  the  finger-tips  that  I  had  not  con- 


410       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

sented  to  a  massacre.  "I  am  for  the  Congress  and 
the  Commonwealth,  Lieutenant,  and  you  are  my 
prisoner.  May  I  trouble  you  for  the  despatches  you 
carry  ?" 

He  looked  up  at  me  with  a  queer  grimace  on  his 
boyish  face. 

"The  devil !  but  you're  a  cool  hand,  Captain  Ire- 
ton!  Whatever  you  were  in  that  coil  at  Appleby, 
you've  led  the  spy's  long  suit  this  time.  And  I'm  not 
sure  whether  I  like  you  any  the  worse  for  it,  if  so 
be  you  must  be  a  rebel."  And  with  that,  he  gave 
me  the  sealed  packet  and  asked  what  I  would  do 
with  him. 

His  query  set  me  thinking.  As  for  the  two 
stunned  troopers,  I  meant  to  turn  them  over  to  the 
old  man  for  safe  keeping;  but  I  was  loath  to  make 
it  harder  than  need  be  for  this  good-natured  young- 
ster. So  I  put  him  upon  his  "honor. 

"Do  you  know  what  this  packet  contains?"  I 
asked. 

He  laughed.  "My  Lord  did  not  honor  me  with" 
his  confidence.  I  was  to  follow  you  in  to  Major 
Ferguson's  camp,  deliver  the  despatches,  and  van- 
ish." 

"Good ;  then  you  need  tell  no  lies.  When  the  In- 
dian has  fetched  my  horse,  I  shall  ride  to  Ferguson's 
camp,  and  you  may  ride  with  me.  I  shall  ask  no 
more  than  this ;  that  you  do  not  fight  again  till  you 
are  exchanged;  and  that  you  will  not  tell  Major 
Ferguson  whose  prisoner  you  are.  Do  you  accept 
the  terms?" 


WHAT   BEFELL   AT   THE   CREEK    411 

"Gad!  I'd  be  a  fool  not  to.  But  what's  in  the 
wind,  Captain?  Surely  you  can  tell  me,  now  that 
I  am  safely  out  of  the  running." 

"You  will  know  in  a  day  or  two ;  and  in  the  mean- 
time ignorance  is  your  best  safety.  You  can  tell 
Major  Ferguson  that  you  were  waylaid  on  the  road 
by  a  party  of  the  enemy,  and  that  you  were  paroled 
and  fell  in  with  me." 

He  looked  a  little  rueful,  as  a  good  soldier  would, 
but  was  disposed  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bar- 
gain. 

"Here's  my  hand  on  it,"  he  said ;  and  a  little  later 
we  had  dragged  the  two  troopers  to  the  cabin,  where 
the  old  man  became  surety  for  their  safe  keeping, 
and  were  feeling  our  way  cautiously  westward  at  the 
heels  of  the  Catawba  who  had  taken  his  directions 
from  our  patriarch. 

We  pressed  forward  in  silence  through  the  shad- 
owy labyrinth  of  the  wood  for  a  time,  but  at  the 
crossing  of  a  small  runlet  where  we  would  stop  to 
let  the  horses  drink,  Tybee  burst  out  a-laughing. 

"  'Tis  as  good  as  a  play,"  he  said.  "Three  sev- 
eral times  I've  had  to  change  my  mind  about  you, 
Captain  Ireton,  and  I'm  not  cock-sure  I  have  your 
measure  yet.  But  I'll  say  this :  if  you've  strung  my 
Lord  successfully,  you'll  be  the  first  to  do  it  and 
come  off  alive  in  the  end." 

"The  end  is  not  yet,  my  good  friend ;  and  I  may 
not  come  off  better  than  the  others,"  I  rejoined. 
And  with  that  we  fared  on  again  till  we  could  see 
the  camp-fires  of  Ferguson's  little  army  twinkling 
between  the  tree  trunks. 


XXXVIII 

IN  WHICH   WE  FIND  THE  GUN-MAKER" 

As  you  may  be  sure,  Major  Patrick  Ferguson  was 
far  too  good  a  soldier  to  leave  his  camp  unguarded 
on  any  side,  and  whilst  we  were  yet  a  far  cannon- 
sKot  from  the  glimmering  fires  a  sentry's  challenge 
halted  us. 

To  the  man's  "Halt!  Who  goes  there?"  I  gave 
the  word  "Friends,"  salving  my  conscience  for  the 
needful  lie  as  I  might. 

"Advance,  friends,  and  give  the  countersign." 

I  confessed  my  ignorance  of  the  night-word,  say- 
ing that  we  were  a  paroled  prisoner  and  a  bearer 
of  despatches,  and  asking  that  we  be  taken  to  Major 
Ferguson's  headquarters.  There  was  some  little 
cautious  demurring  on  the  part  of  the  sentry,  but 
finally  he  passed  the  word  for  the  guard-captain 
and  we  were  escorted  to  the  tent  of  the  field  com- 
mander. 

I  marked  tKe  encampment  as  I  could  in  passing 

through  it.     The  little  army  was  three-fourths  made 

up  of  Tory  militia;  and  there  was  drinking  and 

song-singing   and    a    plentiful    lack    of   discipline 

412 


WE   FIND   THE   GUN-MAKER       413 

around  the  camp-fires  of  these  auxiliaries.  But  a 
different  air  was  abroad  in  the  camp  of  the  regulars ; 
you  would  see  a  soldierly  alertness  on  the  part  of 
the  men,  and  there  was  no  roistering  in  that  quar- 
ter. 

Major  Ferguson's  tent  was  on  a  hillock  some  dis- 
tance back  from  the  stream,  and  thither  we  were 
conducted ;  we,  I  say,  meaning  Tybee  and  myself,  for 
Uncanoola  had  disappeared  like  a  whiff  of  smoke  at 
our  challenging  on  the  sentry  line. 

Late  as  it  was,  the  major  was  up  and  hard  at 
work.  His  tent  table,  transformed  for  the  time 
into  a  mechanic's  work-bench,  was  littered  with 
gun-barrels  and  tools  and  screws  and  odd-shaped 
pieces  of  mechanism — the  disjointed  parts  of  that 
breech-loading  musket  of  which  the  ingenious 
Scotchman  was  the  inventor. 

Being  deep  in  the  creative  trance  when  we  came 
upon  him,  the  major  gave  us  but  an  absent-minded 
greeting,  listening  with  the  outward  ear  only  when 
Tybee  reported  his  mission,  and  his  capture  and 
parole. 

"From  my  Lord,  ye  say?  I  hope  ye  left  him 
well,"  was  all  the  answer  the  Lieutenant  got,  the 
inventor  fitting  away  at  his  gun-puzzle  the  while. 

Tybee  made  proper  rejoinder  and  stood  aside  to 
give  me  room.  I  drew  a  sealed  inclosure  from  my 
pocket  and  laid  it  on  the  work-bench  table. 

"I  also  have  the  honor  to  come  from  my  Lord 
Cornwallis,  bringing  despatches" — so  far  I  got  in 
my  cut-and-dried  speech,  and  then  my  tongue  clave 


414       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

to  the  roof  of  my  mouth  and  I  could  no  more  finish 
the  sentence  than  could  a  man  suddenly  nipped  in 
a  vise.  Instead  of  the  carefully  doctored  original, 
I  had  given  the  major  the  duplicate  despatch  taken 
from  Tybee. 

Ah,  my  dears,  that  was  a  moment  for  swift 
thought  and  still  swifter  action ;  and  'tis  the  Ireton 
genius  to  be  slow  and  sure  and  no  wise  "gleg  at 
the  uptak'/'  as  a  Scot  would  say.  Yet  for  this 
once  my  good  angel  gave  me  a  prompting  and  the 
wit  to  use  it.  In  that  clock-tick  of  benumbing  de- 
spair when  the  success  of  the  hazardous  venture, 
and  much  more  that  I  wist  not  of,  hung  suspended 
by  a  hair  over  the  abyss  of  failure,  I  minded  me  of 
a  boyish  trick  wherewith  I  used  to  fright  the  timid 
blacks  in  the  old  days  at  Appleby  Hundred.  So 
whilst  the  major  was  reaching  for  the  packet — nay, 
when  he  had  it  in  his  hand — I  started  back  with  a 
warning  cry,  giving  that  imitation  of  the  ominous 
skir-r-r  of  a  rattlesnake  which  had  more  than  once 
got  me  a  cuffing  from  my  father. 

In  any  crisis  less  tremendous  I  should  have  roared 
a-laughing  to  see  the  doughty  major  and  my  good 
friend  the  lieutenant  vie  with  each  other  in  their  skip- 
pings  to  escape  the  unseen  enemy.  But  it  was  no 
laughing  moment  for  me.  At  a  flash  my  sword 
was  out  and  I  was  hacking  hither  and  yon  at  the 
imaginary  foe.  In  the  hurly-burly  I  contrived  to 
sprawl  all  across  the  work-bench  table,  and  the 
packet  which  would  have  killed  my  plot — and,  be- 


WE   FIND   THE   GUN-MAKER       415 

like,  the  plotter  as  well — was  secured  and  quickly 
juggled  into  hiding. 

"Damme !  see  now  what  you've  done ;  you've  spilt 
my  breech-charger  all  about  the  place!"  rasped  the 
major,  when  all  was  over.  And  then:  "Who  the 
devil  are  ye,  anyway;  and  what  do  ye  want  wi' 
me?" 

I  clicked  my  heels,  saluted,  and  gave  him  the  ex- 
press from  my  Lord — the  right  one,  this  time.  He 
tore  off  the  wrapping,  swore  a  hearty  soldier  oath 
when  he  read  the  fore  part  of  the  letter  and  clapped 
his  leg  joyfully,  like  the  brave  gentleman  that  he 
was,  when  he  came  to  the  postscriptum. 

"Ye're  a  fine  fellow,  Captain;  ye've  brought  me 
good  news,"  he  said ;  then  he  bade  an  aide  call  Cap- 
tain de  Peyster,  his  second  in  command,  and  in  the 
same  breath  gave  Tybee  and  me  in  charge  to  an 
ensign  for  our  billeting  for  the  night. 

You  will  conceive  that  I  was  overjoyed  at  this 
seemingly  safe  and  easy  planting  of  the  petard 
which  was  to  blow  my  Lord  Cornwallis's  plans  into 
the  air;  and  in  anticipation  I  saw  the  tide-turning 
battle  and  heard  the  huzzas  of  the  mountaineer  vic- 
tors. But  'tis  a  good  old  saw  that  cautions  against 
hallooing  before  you  are  out  of  the  wood.  Captain 
de  Peyster  was  come,  and  Tybee  and  I  were  taking 
our  leave  of  the  major,  when  there  was  a  sudden 
commotion  among  the  guards  without,  and  a  little 
man  in  black,  his  wig  awry  and  his  clothing  torn 
by  the  rough  man-handling  of  the  sentries,  burst 
into  the  tent. 


4i6       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"Seize  him!  seize  him!  he  is  a  rebel  spy!"  he 
shrieked,  pointing  at  me. 

As  you  would  guess,  all  talk  paused  at  this  dra- 
matic interruption,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  upon 
me.  Had  the  little  viper  been  content  to  rest  his 
charge  upon  the  simple  accusation,  I  know  not  what 
might  have  happened.  But  when  he  got  his  breath 
he  burst  out  in  a  tirade  of  the  foulest  abuse,  curs- 
ing me  up  one  side  and  down  the  other,  and  ending 
in  a  gibbering  fit  of  rage  that  left  him  pallid  and 
foaming  at  the  lips — and  gave  me  my  cue. 

"  Tis  the  little  madman  of  Queensborough,"  I 
said,  coolly,  explaining  to  the  bluff  major.  "His 
mania  takes  the  form  of  a  curious  hatred  for  me, 
though  I  know  not  why.  Two  days  since,  he  was 
put  in  arrest  by  my  Lord's  authority  for  threatening 
my  life  and  that  of  his  master's  daughter.  Now, 
it  would  seem,  he  has  broken  jail  and  followed  me 
hither." 

"A  lunatic,  eh?  He  looks  it,  every  inch,"  said  the 
major;  and  the  blackguard  lawyer,  hearing  my 
counter  accusation,  was  doing  his  best  to  give  it 
a  savor  of  likelihood  by  fighting  frantically  with 
the  two  soldiers  who  had  followed  him  into  the 
tent. 

"Out  wi'  him!"  commanded  the  major.  "We've 
no  time  to  foolish  away  wi'  a  Bedlamite.  Take  him 
away  and  peg  him  out,  and  gi'  him  a  dash  o'  water 
to  cool  his  head." 

Pengarvin  fought  like  a  fury,  and  his  venomous 
rage  defeated  all  his  attempts  to  say  calmly  the 


WE   FIND   THE   GUN-MAKER       417 

words  which  might  have  got  him  a  hearing.  So 
he  was  haled  away,  spitting  and  struggling  like  a 
trapped  wildcat ;  and  when  we  were  rid  of  him  the 
major  bade  us  good  night  again. 

Tybee  held  his  peace  like  a  good  fellow  till  we 
had  rolled  us  in  our  blankets  before  one  of  the 
camp-fires.  But  just  as  I  was  dropping  asleep 
he  broke  out  with,  "I  would  you  might  tell  me  what 
piece  of  rebel  villainy  this  is  that  I've  been  a  wink- 
ing accomplice  to." 

I  laughed.  "  Tis  a  thing  to  make  Major  Fer- 
guson rejoice,  as  you  saw.  And  surely,  it  can  be 
no  great  villainy  to  give  a  man  what  he's  thirsting 
for.  Bide  your  time,  Lieutenant,  and  you  shall  see 
the  outcome." 


XXXIX 

THE  THUNDER  OF  THE  CAPTAINS  AND  THE  SHOUTING 

The  camp  was  astir  early  the  next  morning,  and 
it  soon  became  noised  about  that  we  were  to  fall 
back,  but  only  so  far  as  might  be  needful  to  find 
a  strong  position.  From  this  it  was  evident  that 
a  battle  was  imminent,  though  as  yet  there  were  no 
signs  of  the  approach  of  the  patriots. 
;  From  the  camp  talk  we,  Tybee  and  I,  gleaned 
some  better  information  of  the  situation.  A  fort- 
night earlier  Major  Ferguson  had  captured  two  of 
the  over-mountain  men  of  Clark's  party  and  had 
sent  them  to  the  settlement  on  the  Watauga  with 
a  challenge  in  due  form — or  rather  with  the  threat 
to  come  and  lay  the  over-mountain  region  waste 
in  default  of  an  instant  return  of  the  pioneers  to 
their  allegiance  to  the  king. 

This  challenge,  so  our  scouts  told  us,  had  been 
immediately  accepted.  Sevier  and  Shelby  had  em- 
bodied some  two  hundred  men  each  from  the  Wa- 
tauga and  the  Holston  settlements,  and  Colonel  Wil- 
liam Campbell,  the  stout  old  Presbyterian  Indian 
fighter,  had  joined  them  with  as  many  more  Vir- 
ginians. 

r4i8 


THUNDER   OF   THE   CAPTAINS     419 

Crossing  the  mountain  these  three  troops  had 
fallen  in  with  other  scattered  parties  of  the  border 
patriots  under  Benjamin  Cleaveland,  Major  Chron- 
icle and  Colonel  Williams,  of  South  Carolina,  until 
now,  as  the  scouts  reported,  the  challenged  outnum- 
bered the  challengers.  Learning  this,  Ferguson, 
who  was  as  prudent  as  he  was  brave,  thought  it 
best  to  make  his  stand  at  some  point  nearer  the 
main  body  of  the  army;  and  so  the  withdrawal 
from  Gilbert  Town  had  fallen  into  a  retreat  and  a 
pursuit. 

From  what  Captain  de  Peyster  has  since  told  me, 
there  would  seem  to  be  little  doubt  that  the  major' 
meant  to  fight  when  he  had  maneuvered  himself 
into  a  favorable  position ;  this  in  spite  of  Lord  Corn- 
wallis's  commands  to  the  contrary.  In  his  de- 
spatches he  was  continually  urging  the  need  for  a 
bold  push  in  his  quarter,  and  asking  for  Tarleton 
and  a  sufficient  number  of  the  legion  to  enable  him 
to  cope  with  a  mounted  enemy.  But  be  this  as  it 
may,  the  garbled  letter  I  had  brought  him  turned 
whatever  scale  there  was  to  turn.  He  had  now  with 
him  some  eleven  hundred  regulars  and  Tories,  the 
latter  decently  well  drilled;  he  had  every  reason  to 
expect  the  needed  help  from  Cornwallis ;  and,  on  the 
night  of  my  arrival,  he  had  word  that  another  Tory 
force  under  Major  Gibbs  would  join  him  in  a  day  or 
two,  at  farthest. 

For  his  battle-ground  Major  Ferguson  chose  the 
top  of  a  forest-covered  hill,  the  last  and  lowest  ele- 
vation in  the  spur  named  that  day  King's  Mountain. 


420       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

In  some  respects  the  position  was  all  that  could 
be  desired.  There  was  room  on  the  flat  hilltop  for 
an  orderly  disposition  of  the  fighting1  force;  and 
the  slopes  in  front  and  rear  were  steep  enough  to 
give  an  attacking  enemy  a  sharp  climb.  Moreover, 
there  was  a  plentiful  outcropping  of  stone  on  the 
summit,  scantiest  on  the  broad  or  outer  end  of  the, 
hill,  and  this  was  so  disposed  as  to  form  a  natural 
breastwork  for  the  defenders. 

But  there  were  disadvantages  also,  the  chief  of 
these  being  the  heavy  wooding  of  the  slopes  to 
screen  the  advance  of  the  assaulting  party;  and 
while  the  major  was  busy  making  his  dispositions 
for  the  fight,  I  was  on  tenter-hooks  for  fear  he 
would  have  the  trees  felled  to  belt  the  breastwork 
with  a  clear  space. 

He  did  not  do  it,  being  restrained,  as  I  afterward 
learned,  by  his  uncertainty  as  to  whether  or  no  the 
mountain  men  had  cannon.  Against  artillery  post- 
ed on  the  neighboring  hillocks  the  trees  were  his 
best  defense,  and  so  he  left  them  standing. 

As  you  would  suppose,  my  situation  was  now  be- 
come most  trying,  and  poor  Tybee's  was  scarcely 
less  so.  Knowing  my  name  and  circumstance,  and 
having,  moreover,  a  high  regard  for  my  old  field- 
marshal's  genius,  Major  Ferguson  was  very  willing 
to  make  use  of  my  experience.  These  askings  from 
one  whom  I  knew  for  a  brave  and  honorable  gentle- 
man let  me  fall  between  two  stools.  As  a  patriot 
spy,  it  was  my  duty  to  turn  the  major's  confidence 


THUNDER   OF   THE.  CAPTAINS     421 

as  a  weapon  against  him.  But  as  an  officer  and  a 
gentleman  I  could  by  no  means  descend  to  such 
depths  of  perfidy. 

In  this  dilemma  I  sought  to  steer  a  middle  course, 
saying  that  I  must  beg  exemption  because  my  long 
hard  ride  had  re-opened  my  old  sword  wound — as 
indeed  it  had.  So  the  major  generously  let  me  be, 
thus  heaping  coals  of  fire  upon  my  head;  and  I 
kept  out  of  his  way,  consorting  with  Tybee,  who, 
like  myself,  must  be  an  onlooker  in  the  coming 
fray. 

As  for  the  lieutenant,  he  was  all  agog  to  learn  more 
than  I  dared  tell  him,  and  it  irked  him  most  nettle- 
somely  to  have  a  fight  in  prospect  in  the  which  he 
was  in  honor  bound  not  to  take  a  hand.  Time  and 
again  he  begged  me  to  release  him  from  his  parole ; 
and  when  I  would  not,  he  was  for  fighting  me  a  duel 
with  his  freedom  for  a  stake. 

"Consider  of  it,  Captain  Ireton,"  he  pleaded.  "For 
God's  sake,  put  yourself  in  my  place.  Here  am  I, 
in  the  camp  of  my  friends,  gagged  and  bound  by 
my  word  to  you  whilst  your  infernal  plot,  whatever 
it  may  be,  works  out  to  the  coup  de  grace.  Ye 
gods !  it  would  have  been  far  more  merciful  had  you 
run  me  through  in  our  wrestling  match  last  night !" 

"Mayhap,"  said  I,  curtly.  "  'Twas  but  the  choice 
between  two  evils.  Nevertheless,  in  time  to  come 
I  hope  you  may  conclude  that  this  is  the  lesser  of 
the  two." 

"No,  I'm  damned  if  I  shall !"  he  retorted,  fuming 


422 

like  a  disappointed  boy,  and  minding  me  most  forci- 
bly of  my  hot-headed  Richard  Jennifer.  And  then 
he  would  repeat :  "I  thought  you  were  my  friend." 

"So  I  am,  as  man  to  man.  But  this  matter  con- 
cerns the  welfare  of  a  cause  to  which  I  have  sworn 
fealty.  Take  your  own  words  back,  my  lad,  and  put 
yourself  in  my  place.  Can  I  do  less  than  hold  you 
to  your  pledge?" 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  he  would  say,  grumpily. 
"Yet  'tis  hard ;  most  devilish  hard !" 

"  Tis  the  fortune  of  war.  Another  day  the  shoe 
may  be  upon  the  other  foot." 

The  baggage  wagons  had  been  massed  across  the 
broad  end  of  the  hill  to  eke  out  the  stone  breast- 
work, and  the  last  of  these  arguing  colloquies  took 
place  beneath  one  of  the  wagons  whither  we  had 
crept  for  shelter  from  the  rain,  which  was  now 
pouring  again.  In  the  midst  of  our  talk,  Major 
Ferguson  dived  to  share  our  shelter,  dripping  like 
a  water  spaniel. 

"Ha !  ye're  carpet  soldiers,  both  of  ye  I"  he  snort- 
ed, and  then  he  began  to  swear  piteously  at  the 
rain. 

"  'Twill  be  worse  for  the  enemy  than  for  us," 
said  Tybee.  "We  can  at  least  keep  our  powder 
dry." 

"Damn  the  enemy !"  quoth  the  major,  cheerfully. 
"So  the  weather  does  not  put  the  creeks  up  and 
hold  Tarleton  and  Major  Gibbs  back  from  us,  'tis 
a  small  matter  whether  the  rebels'  powder  be  dry 
or  soaked." 


THUNDER   OF   THE   CAPTAINS     423 

"You  have  made  all  your  dispositions,  Major?" 
Tybee  asked 

The  major  nodded.  "All  in  apple-pie  order,  no 
thanks  to  either  of  ye.  'Tis  a  strong  position,  this, 
eh,  Captain  Ireton?  I'm  thinking  not  all  the  rebel 
banditti  out  of  hell  will  drive  us  from  it." 

"  'Tis  good  enough,"  I  agreed ;  and  here  the  talk 
was  broken  off  by  the  major's  diving  out  to  berate 
some  of  his  Tory  militiamen  who  were  preparing 
to  make  a  night  of  it  with  a  jug  of  their  vile  coun- 
try liquor. 

The  rain  continued  all  that  Friday  night  and  well 
on  into  the  forenoon  of  the  Saturday.  During  this 
interval  we  waited  with  scouts  out  for  the  upcoming 
of  the  mountain  men.  At  noon  Major  Ferguson 
sent  a  final  express  to  Lord  Cornwallis,  urging  the 
hurrying  on  of  the  reinforcements,  not  knowing 
that  his  former  despatch  had  been  intercepted,  nor 
that  Tarleton  had  not  as  yet  started  to  the  rescue. 
A  little  later  the  scouts  began  to  come  in  one  by  one 
with  news  of  the  approaching  riflemen. 

There  was  but  a  small  body  of  them,  not  above  a 
thousand  men  in  all,  so  the  spies  said,  and  my  heart 
misgave  me.  They  were  without  cannon  and  they 
lacked  bayonets ;  and  moreover,  when  all  was  said, 
they  were  but  militia,  all  untried  save  in  border 
warfare  with  the  Indians.  Could  they  successfully 
assault  the  fortified  camp  whose  defenders — thanks 
to  the  major's  ingenuity — had  fitted  butcher-knives 
to  the  muzzles  of  their  guns  in  lieu  of  bayonets? 
Nay,  rather  would  they  have  the  courage  to  try  ? 


424       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

'Twas  late  in  the  afternoon  before  these  ques- 
tions were  answered.  The  rain  had  ceased,  and 
the  chill  October  sunlight  filtered  aslant  through 
the  trees.  With  the  clearing  skies  a  cold  wind  had 
sprung  up,  and  on  the  hilltop  the  men  cowered  be- 
hind the  rock  breastwork  and  waited  in  strained 
silence.  At  the  last  moment  Major  Ferguson  sent 
Captain  de  Peyster  to  me  with  the  request  that  I 
take  command  of  the  Tory  force  set  apart  to  defend 
the  wagon  barricade — this  if  my  weariness  would 
permit.  I  went  with  the  captain  to  make  my  ex- 
cuses in  person. 

"Say  no  more,  Captain,"  said  this  generous  sol- 
dier, when  I  began  some  lame  plea  for  further  ex- 
emption ;  "I  had  forgot  your  sword-cut.  Take  shel- 
ter for  yourself,  and  look  on  whilst  we  skin  this 
riffraff  alive." 

And  so  he  let  me  off;  a  favor  which  will  make 
me  think  kindly  of  Patrick  Ferguson  so  long  as  I 
shall  live.  For  now  my  work  was  done ;  and  had  he 
insisted,  I  should  have  told  him  flatly  who  and  what 
I  was — and  paid  the  penalty. 

I  had  scarce  rejoined  Tybee  at  the  wagons  when 
the  long  roll  of  the  drums  broke  the  silence  of  the 
hilltop,  and  a  volley  fire  of  musketry  from  the 
rock  breastwork  on  the  right  told  us  the  battle 
was  on.  Tybee  gave  me  one  last  reproachful  look 
and  stood  out  to  see  what  could  be  seen,  and  I  stood 
with  him. 

"Your  friends  are  running,"  he  said,  when  there 
was  no  reply  to  the  opening  volley;  and  truly,  I 


THUNDER   OF   THE   CAPTAINS     425 

feared  he  was  right.  At  the  bottom  of  the  slope, 
scattering  groups  of  the  riflemen  could  be  seen  has- 
tening to  right  and  left.  But  I  would  not  admit 
the  charge  to  Tybee. 

"I  think  not,"  I  objected,  denying  the  apparent 
fact.  "They  have  come  too  far  and  too  fast  to 
turn  back  now  for  a  single  overshot  volley." 

"But  they'll  never  face  the  fire  up  the  hill  with 
the  bayonet  to  cap  it  at  the  top,"  he  insisted. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen;  we  shall  know  pres- 
ently. Ah,  I  thought  so ;  here  they  come !" 

At  the  word  the  forest-covered  steep  at  our  end 
of  the  hill  sprang  alive  with  dun-clad  figures  dart- 
ing upward  from  tree  to  tree.  Volley  after  volley 
thundered  down  upon  them  as  they  climbed,  but  not 
once  did  the  dodging  charge  up  the  slope  pause  or 
falter.  Unlike  all  other  irregulars  I  had  ever  seen, 
whose  idea  of  a  battle  is  to  let  off  the  piece  and  run, 
these  mountain  men  held  their  fire  like  veterans, 
closing  in  upon  the  hilltop  steadily  and  in  a  grim 
silence  broken  only  by  the  shouting  encouragements 
of  the  leaders — this  until  their  circling  line  was 
completed. 

Then  suddenly  from  all  sides  of  the  beleaguered 
camp  arose  a  yell  to  shake  the  stoutest  courage, 
and  with  that  the  wood-covered  slopes  began  to  spit 
fire,  not  in  volleys,  but  here  and  there  in  irregular 
snappings  and  cracklings  as  the  sure-shot  riflemen 
saw  a  mark  to  pull  trigger  on. 

The  effect  of  this  fine-bead  target  practice — for  it 
was  naught  else — was  most  terrific.  All  along  the 


426        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

breastwork,  front  and  rear,  crouching  men  sprang 
up  at  the  rifle  crackings  to  fling  their  arms  all 
abroad  and  to  fall  writhing  and  wrestling  in  the 
death  throe.  At  our  end  of  the  hill,  where  the  rock 
barrier  was  thinnest,  the  slaughter  was  appalling; 
and  above  the  din  of  the  firearms  we  could  hear  the 
bellowed  commands  of  the  sturdy  old  Indian  fighter, 
Benjamin  Cleaveland,  urging  his  men  up  to  still 
closer  quarters.  "A  little  nearer,  my  brave  boys ;  a 
little  nearer  and  we  have  them !  Press  on  up  to  the 
rocks.  They'll  be  as  good  a  breastwork  from  our 
side  as  from  theirs !" 

You  will  read  in  the  histories  that  the  Tory  help- 
ers of  Ferguson  fought  as  men  with  halters  round 
their  necks;  and  so,  indeed,  a-many  of  them  did. 
But  though  they  were  most  pitiless  enemies  of  ours, 
I  bear  them  witness  that  they  did  fight  well  and 
bravely,  and  not  as  men  who  fight  for  fear's  sake. 

And  they  were  most  bravely  officered.  Major 
Ferguson,  boldly  conspicuous  in  a  white  linen 
hunting-shirt  drawn  on  over  his  uniform,  was 
here  and  there  and  everywhere,  and  always  in 
the  place  where  the  bullets  flew  thickest.  His  left 
hand  had  been  hurt  at  the  first  patriot  gun  fire, 
but  it  still  held  the  silver  whistle  to  his  lips,  and  the 
shrill  skirling  of  the  little  pipe  was  the  loyalist  rally- 
ing signal.  Captain  de  Peyster,  too,  did  ample  jus- 
tice to  the  uniform  he  wore;  and  when  Campbell^-v 
Virginians  gained  the  summit  at  the  far  end  of  the 
hilltop,  'twas  de  Peyster  who  led  the  bayonet  charge 


THUNDER   OF   THE   CAPTAINS     427 

that  forced  the  patriot  riflemen  some  little  way  down 
the  slope. 

But  these  are  digressions.  No  man  sees  more 
of  a  battle  than  that  little  circle  of  which  he  is  the 
center ;  and  the  fighting  was  hot  enough  at  the 
wagon  barricade  to  keep  both  Tybee  and  me  from 
knowing  at  the  time  what  was  going  on  beyond 
our  narrow  range  of  sight  or  hearing.  You  must 
picture,  therefore,  for  yourselves,  a  very  devils' 
pandemonium  let  loose  upon  the  little  hilltop  so 
soon  as  the  mountain  men  gained  their  vantage 
ground  at  the  fronting  of  the  rock  breastwork: 
cries;  frantic  shouts  of  "God  save  the  king!"  yells 
fierce  and  wordless ;  men  in  red  and  men  in  home- 
spun rushing  madly  hither  and  yon  in  a  vain  at- 
tempt to  repel  a  front  and  rear  attack  at  the  same 
instant.  'Twas  a  hell  set  free,  with  no  quarter 
asked  or  given,  and  where  we  stood,  the  Tory  de- 
fenders of  the  wagon  barrier  were  presently  drop- 
ping around  us  in  heaps  and  windrows  of  dead  and 
dying,  like  men  suddenly  plague-smitten. 

In  such  a  time  of  asking  you  must  not  think  we 
stood  aloof  and  looked  on  coldly.  At  the  first  fire 
Tybee  stripped  off  his  coat  and  fell  to  work  with  the 
wounded,  and  I  quickly  followed  his  lead,  praying 
that  now  my  work  was  done,  some  one  of  the  flying 
missiles  would  find  its  mark  in  me  and  let  me  die 
a  soldier's  death. 

So  it  was  that  I  saw  little  more  of  the  battle  de- 
tail, and  of  that  fierce  frenzy-time  I  have  memory 


428       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

pictures  only  of  the  dead  and  dying ;  of  the  torn  and 
wounded  and  bleeding  men  with  whom  we  \vrought, 
striving  as  we  might  to  stanch  the  ebbing  life-tide 
or  to  ease  the  dying  gently  down  into  the  valley  of 
shadows. 

And  as  for  my  prayer,  it  went  all  unanswered. 
Once  when  I  had  a  dying  Tory's  head  pillowed  on 
my  knee  I  saw  a  rifleman  thrust  his  weapon  between 
the  wheel-spokes  of  the  outer  wagon  and  draw  a 
bead  on  me.  I  heard  the  crack  of  the  Deckard,  the 
sip  of  the  bullet  singing  at  my  ear,  and  the  man's 
angry  oath  at  his  missing  of  me.  Once  again  a 
rifle-ball  passed  through  my  hair  at  the  braiding 
of  the  queue  and  I  felt  the  hot  touch  of  it  on  my 
scalp  like  a  breath  of  flame.  Another  time  a  moun- 
taineer leaped  the  rock  barrier  to  beat  me  down 
with  the  butt  of  his  rifle — and  in  the  very  act  Tybee 
rose  up  and  throttled  him.  I  saw  the  grapple, 
sprang  to  my  feet  and  whipped  out  my  sword. 

"Stop!"  I  commanded;  "you  have  broken  your 
parole,  Lieutenant!" 

The  freed  borderer  glared  from  one  to  the  other 
of  us.  "Loonies!"  he  yelled;  "I'll  slaughter  the 
both  of  ye !"  And  so  he  would  have  done,  I  make 
no  doubt,  had  we  not  laid  hold  of  him  together  and 
heaved  him  back  over  the  breastwork. 

These  are  but  incidents,  points  of  contact  where 
the  fray  touched  us  two  at  the  wagon  barricade. 
I  pass  them  by  with  the  mention,  as  I  have  passed 
by  the  sterner  horrors  of  that  furious  killing-time. 
These  last  are  too  large  for  my  poor  pen.  As  we 


THUNDER   OF   THE   CAPTAINS     429 

could  gather  in  tHe  din  and  tumult,  the  mountain 
men  rushed  again  and  again  to  the  attack,  and  as 
often  the  brave  major,  or  De  Peyster,  led  the  bayo- 
net charges  that  pushed  them  back.  Yet  in  the  end 
the  unerring  bullet  outpressed  the  bayonet;  there 
came  a  time  when  flesh  and  blood  could  no  longer 
endure  the  death-dealing  cross-fire  from  front  and 
rear. 

I  saw  the  end  was  near  when  the  major  ordered 
the  final  charge,  and  Captain  de  Peyster  formed  his 
line  and  led  it  forward  at  a  double-quick.  The 
mountaineers  held  more  than  half  the  hilltop  now, 
and  this  forlorn  hope  was  to  try  to  drive  them 
down  the  farther  slopes.  On  it  went,  and  I  could 
see  the  men  pitch  and  tumble  out  of  the  line  until 
at  bayonet-reach  of  the  riflemen  there  were  less 
than  a  dozen  afoot  and  fit  to  make  the  push. 

De  Peyster  fought  his  way  back  to  the  wagons, 
gasping  and  bloody.  Some  of  the  Tories  crowding 
around  us  raised  a  white  flag.  The  major,  sorely 
wounded  now  and  all  but  disabled,  swore  a  great 
oath  and  rode  rough-shod  into  the  ruck  of  cowering 
militiamen  to  pull  down  the  flag.  Again  the  white 
token  of  surrender  was  raised,  and  again  the  major 
rode  in  to  beat  it  down  \vith  his  sword.  At  this 
Captain  de  Peyster  put  in  his  word. 

"  'Tis  no  use,  Major;  there  is  no  more  fight  left  in 
us!  Five  minutes  more  of  this  and  we'll  be  shot 
down  to  a  man !" 

Ferguson's  reply  was  a  raging  oath  broad  enough 
to  cover  all  the  enemy  and  his  own  beaten  remnant 


430       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

i 

as  well ;  and  then,  before  a  hand  could  be  lifted  to 

stay  him,  he  had  wheeled  his  horse  and  was  gallop- 
ing straight  for  the  patriot  line  at  the  farther  ex- 
tremity of  the  hilltop. 

What  he  meant  to  do  will  never  be  known  till 
that  great  day  when  all  secrets  shall  be  revealed. 
For  that  furious  oath  was  this,  brave  gentleman's 
last  word  to  us  or  to  any.  A  dozen  bounds,  it  may 
be,  the  good  charger  carried  him;  then  the  storm 
of  rifle-bullets  beat  him  from  the  saddle.  And  so 
died  one  of  the  gallantest  officers  that  ever  did  an 
unworthy  king's  work  on  the  field  of  battle. 

I  would  I  might  forget  the  terrible  scene  which 
followed  this  killing  of  the  British  commander. 
'Twas  little  to  our  credit,  but  I  may  not  pass  it  over 
in  silence.  De  Peyster  quickly  sent  a  man  to  the 
front  with  a  white  flag,  and  the  answer  was  a  mur- 
derous volley  which  killed  the  flag-bearer  and  many 
others.  Again  the  flag  was  raised  on  a  rifle-barrel, 
and  once  more  the  answer  was  a  storm  of  the  leaden 
death  poured  into  the  panic-stricken  crowd  huddled 
like  sheep  at  the  wagons. 

"God!"  said  de  Peyster;  and  with  that  he  began 
to  beat  his  men  into  line  with  the  flat  of  his  sword 
in  a  frenzy  of  desperation,  being  minded,  as  he 
afterward  told  me,  to  give  them  the  poor  chance  to 
die  a-fighting. 

I  saw  not  what  folio-wed  upon  this  last  despairing 
effort,  for  now  Tybee  was  down  and  I  was  kneeling 
beside  him  to  search  for  the  wound.  But  when  I 
looked  again,  the  crackling  crashes  of  the  rifle-firing 


THUNDER   OF   THE   CAPTAINS     431 

had  ceased.  A  stout,  gray-headed  man,  whom  I 
afterward  knew  as  Isaac  Shelby's  father,  was  riding 
up  from  the  patriot  line  to  receive  Captain  de  Peys- 
ter's  sword,  and  the  battle  was  ended. 


XL 

VAE  VICTIS 

If  my  hand  were  not  sure  enough  to  draw  you 
some  speaking  picture  of  this  our  epoch-marking 
battle  of  King's  Mountain,  it  falters  still  more  on 
coming  to  the  task  of  setting  forth  the  tragic  hor- 
rors of  the  dreadful  after-night.  Wherefore  I  pray 
you  will  hold  me  excused,  my  dears,  if  I  hasten  over 
the  events  tripping  upon  the  heels  of  the  victory, 
touching  upon  them  only  as  they  touch  upon  my  tale. 

But  as  for  the  stage-setting  of  the  after-scene 
you  may  hold  in  your  mind's  eye  the  stony  hilltop 
strewn  with  the  dead  and  dying;  the  huddle  of 
cowed  prisoners  at  the  wagon  barricade ;  the  moun- 
taineers, mad  with  the  victor's  frenzy,  swarming  to 
surround  us.  'Twas  a  clipping  from  Chaos  and 
Night  gone  blood-crazed  till  Sevier  and  Isaac 
Shelby  brought  somewhat  of  order  out  of  it;  and 
then  came  the  reckoning. 

Of  the  seven  hundred-odd  prisoners  the  greater 

number  were  Tories,  many  of  them  red-handed  from 

scenes  of  rapine  in  which  their  present  captors  had 

suffered  the  loss  of  all  that  men  hold  dear.     So 

432 


VAE   VICTIS  433 

you  will  not  wonder  that  there  were  knives  and 
rifles  shaken  aloft,  and  fierce  and  vengeful  counsels 
in  which  it  was  proposed  to  put  the  captives  one 
and  all  to  the  cord  and  tree. 

But  now  again  Sevier  and  Shelby,  seconded  by 
the  fiery  Presbyterian,  William  Campbell,  flung 
themselves  into  the  breach,  pleading  for  delay  and 
a  fair  trial  for  such  as  were  blood  guilty.  And  so 
the  dismal  night,  made  chill  and  comfortless  by  the 
cold  wind  and  most  doleful  by  the  groans  and  cries 
of  the  wounded,  wore  away,  and  the  dawn  of  the 
Sunday  found  us  lying  as  we  were  in  the  bloody 
shambles  of  the  hilltop. 

With  the  earliest  morning  light  the  burial  parties 
were  at  work;  and  since  the  stony  battle-ground 
would  not  lend  itself  for  the  trenching,  the  graves 
were  dug  in  the  vales  below.  Captain  de  Peyster 
begged  hard  for  leave  to  bury  the  brave  Ferguson 
on  the  spot  where  he  fell,  but  'twas  impossible ;  and 
now,  I  am  told,  the  stout  old  Scotsman  lies  side  by 
side  with  our  Major  Will  Chronicle,  of  Mecklen- 
burg, who  fell  just  before  the  ending  of  the  battle. 

The  dead  buried  and  the  wounded  cared  for  in 
some  rough  and  ready  fashion,  preparations  were 
made  in  all  haste  for  a  speedy  withdrawal  from  the 
neighborhood  of  the  battle-field.  Rumor  had  it 
that  Tarleton  with  his  invincible  legion  was  within 
a  few  hours'  march ;  and  the  mountain  men,  sodden 
weary  with  the  toils  of  the  flying  advance  and  the 
hard-fought  conflict,  were  in  no  fettle  to  cope  with  a 
fresh  foe. 


434       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

As  yet  I  had  not  made  myself  known  to  the 
patriot  commanders,  having  my  hands  and  heart 
full  with  the  care  of  poor  Tybee,  who  was  griev- 
ously hurt,  and  being  in  a  measure  indifferent  to 
what  should  befall  me. 

But  now  as  we  were  about  to  march  I  was 
dragged  before  the  committee  of  colonels  and  put 
to  the  question. 

"Your  uniform  is  a  strange  one  to  us,  sir,"  said 
Isaac  Shelby,  looking  me  up  and  down  with  that 
heavy-lidded  right  eye  of  his.  "Explain  your  rank 
and  standing,  if  you  please." 

I  told  my  story  simply,  and,  as  I  thought,  effect- 
ively ;  and  had  only  black  looks  for  my  pains. 

"  Tis  a  strange  tale,  surely,  sir, — too  strange  to 
be  believable,"  quoth  Shelby.  "You  are  a  traitor, 
Captain  Ireton — of  the  kind  we  need  not  cumber 
ourselves  with  on  a  march." 

"Who  says  that  word  of  me?"  I  demanded,  car- 
ing not  much  for  that  to  which  his  threat  pointed, 
but  something  for  my  good  name. 

Shelby  turned  and  beckoned  to  a  man  in  the  group 
behind  him.  "Stand  out,  John  Whittlesey,"  he  di- 
rected; and  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with  that 
rifleman  of  Colonel  Davie's  party  who  had  been  so 
fierce  to  hang  me  at  the  fording  of  the  Catawba. 

This  man  gave  his  testimony  briefly,  telling  but 
the  bare  truth.  A  week  earlier  I  had  passed  in 
Davie's  camp  for  a  true-blue  patriot,  this  though  I 
was  wearing  a  ragged  British  uniform  at  the  mo- 
ment. As  for  the  witness  himself,  he  had  mis- 


VAE   VICTIS  435 

doubted  me  all  along,  but  the  colonel  had  trusted 
me  and  had  sent  me  on  some  secret  mission,  the 
inwardness  of  which  he,  John  Whittlesey,  had  been 
unable  to  come  at,  though  he  confessed  that  he  had 
tried  to  worm  it  out  of  me  before  parting  company 
with  me  on  the  road  to  Charlotte. 

I  looked  from  one  to  another  of  my  judges. 

"If  this  be  all,  gentlemen,  the  man  does  but  con- 
firm my  story,"  I  said. 

"It  is  not  all,"  said  Shelby.  "Mr.  Pengarvin, 
stand  forth." 

There  was  another  stir  in  the  backgrounding 
group  and  the  pettifogger  edged  his  way  into  the 
circle,  keeping  well  out  of  hand-reach  of  me.  How 
he  had  made  shift  to  escape  from  Ferguson's  men,  to 
change  sides,  and  to  turn  up  thus  serenely  in  the 
ranks  of  the  over-mountain  men,  I  know  not  to  this 
day,  nor  ever  shall  know. 

"Tell  these  gentlemen  what  you  have  told  me," 
said  Shelby,  briefly ;  and  the  factor,  cool  and  col- 
lected now,  rehearsed  the  undeniable  facts :  how  in 
Charlotte  I  had  figured  as  a  member  of  Lord  Corn- 
wallis's  military  family;  how  I  had  carried  my 
malignancy  to  the  patriot  cause  to  the  length  of 
throwing  a  stanch  friend  to  the  commonwealth,  to 
wit,  one  Owen  Pengarvin,  into  the  common  jail; 
how,  as  Lord  Cornwallis's  trusted  aide-de-camp,  I 
had  been  sent  with  an  express  to  Major  Ferguson. 
Also,  he  suggested  that  if  I  should  be  searched  some 
proof  of  my  duplicity  might  be  found  upon  me. 

At  this  William  Campbell  nodded  to  two  of  his 


436       THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY 

Virginians,  and  I  was  searched  forthwith,  and  that 
none  too  gently.  In  the  breast  pocket  of  my  hussar 
jacket  they  found  that  accursed  duplicate  despatch ; 
the  one  I  had  taken  from  Tybee  and  which  had  so 
nearly  proved  my  undoing  in  the  interview  with 
Major  Ferguson. 

Isaac  Shelby  opened  and  read  the  accusing  letter 
and  passed  it  around  among  his  colleagues. 

"I  shall  not  ask  you  why  this  was  undelivered, 
sir,"  he  said  to  me,  sternly.  "  'Tis  enough  that  it 
was  found  upon  your  person,  and  it  sufficiently 
proves  the  truth  of  this  gentleman's  accusation. 
Have  you  aught  further  to  say,  Captain  Ireton? — 
aught  that  may  excuse  us  for  not  leaving  you  behind 
us  in  a  halter?" 

Do  you  wonder,  my  dears,  that  I  lost  my  head 
when  I  saw  how  completely  the  toils  of  this  little 
black-clothed  fiend  had  closed  around  me?  Twice, 
nay,  thrice  I  tried  to  speak  calmly  as  the  crisis 
demanded.  Then  mad  rage  ran  away  with  me,  and 
I  burst  out  in  yelling  curses  so  hot  they  would 
surely  dry  the  ink  in  the  pen  were  I  to  seek  to  set 
them  down  here. 

'Twas  a  silly  thing  to  do,  you  will  say,  and  much 
beneath  the  dignity  of  a  grown  man  who  cared 
not  a  bodle  for  his  life,  and  not  greatly  for  the 
manner  of  its  losing.  I  grant  you  this;  and  yet  it 
was  that  same  bull-bellow  of  soldier  profanity  that 
saved  my  life.  Whilst  I  was  in  the  storm  of  it, 
cursing  the  lawyer  by  every  shouted  epithet  I  could 
lay  tongue  to,  a  miracle  was  wrought  and  Richard 


VAE  VICTIS  437 

Jennifer  and  Ephraim  Yeates  pushed  their  way 
through  the  ever-thickening  ring  of  onlookers ;  the 
latter  to  range  himself  beside  me  with  his  brown- 
barreled  rifle  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm,  and  my  dear 
lad  to  fling  himself  upon  me  in  a  bear's  hug  of 
joyous  recognition  and  greeting. 

"Score  one  for  me,  Jack!"  he  cried.  "We  were 
fair  at  t'other  end  of  the  mountain,  and  'twas  I  told 
Eph  there  was  only  one  man  in  the  two  Carolinas 
who  could  swear  the  match  of  that."  Then  he 
whirled  upon  my  judges.  "What  is  this,  gentle- 
men?— a  court  martial?  Captain  Ireton  is  my 
friend,  and  as  true  a  patriot  as  ever  drew  breath. 
What  is  your  charge  ?" 

Colonel  Sevier,  in  whose  command  Richard  and 
the  old  borderer  had  fought  in  the  hilltop  battle, 
undertook  to  explain.  I  stood  self-confessed  as  the 
bearer  of  despatches  from  Lord  Cornwallis  to  Major 
Ferguson,  he  said,  and  I  had  claimed  that  the  orders 
had  been  so  altered  as  to  delay  the  major's  retreat 
and  so  to  bring  on  the  battle.  But  they  had  just 
found  Lord  Cornwallis's  letter  in  my  pocket,  still 
sealed  and  undelivered.  And  the  tenor  of  it  was 
precisely  opposite  to  that  of  an  order  calculated  to 
delay  the  major's  march,  as  Mr.  Jennifer  could  see 
if  he  would  read  it. 

While  Sevier  was  talking,  the  old  borderer  was 
fumbling  in  the  breast  of  his  hunting-shirt,  and  now 
he  produced  a  packet  of  papers  tied  about  with  red 
tape. 

"  Tears  to  me  like  you  Injun-killers  from  t'other 


438       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

side  o'  the  mounting  is  in  a  mighty  hot  sweat  to 
hang  somebody,"  he  said,  as  coolly  as  if  he  were 
addressing  a  mob  of  underlings.  "Here's  a  mess 
o'  billy-doos  with  Lord  Cornwallis's  name  to  'em 
that  I  found  'mongst  Major  Ferguson's  leavings. 
If  you'll  look  'em  over,  maybe  you'll  find  out,  im- 
mejitly  if  not  sooner,  that  Cap'n  John  here  is  telling 
ye  the  plumb  truth." 

The  papers  were  examined  hastily,  and  presently 
John  Sevier  lighted  upon  the  despatch  I  had  carried 
and  delivered.  Thereat  the  colonels  put  their  heads 
together;  and  then  my  case  was  re-opened,  with 
Sevier  as  spokesman. 

"We  have  a  letter  here  which  appears  to  be  the 
original  order  to  Ferguson,  Captain  Ireton.  Can 
you  repeat  from  memory  the  postscriptum  which 
you  say  was  added  to  it  ?" 

I  gave  the  gist  of  my  old  patriarch's  addendum  as 
well  as  I  could ;  and  thereupon  suspicion  fled  away 
and  my  late  judges  would  vie  with  one  another  in 
hearty  frontier  hand-grasps  and  apologies,  whilst 
the  throng  that  ringed  us  in  forgot  caution  and 
weariness  and  gave  me  a  cheer  to  wake  the  echoes. 

'Twas  while  this  burst  of  gratulation  was  abuzz 
that  Ephraim  Yeates  raised  a  cry  of  his  own. 

"Stop  that  there  black-legged  imp  o'  the  law!" 
he  shouted,  pushing  his  way  out  of  the  circle.  "He's 
the  one  that  ought  to  hang !" 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  wagon  barricade,  a 
clatter  of  horse-hoofs  on  the  hillside  below,  and 
Yeates's  rifle  went  to  his  face.  But  the  bullet  flew 


VAE  VICTIS  439 

wide,  and  the  black-garbed  figure  clinging  to  the 
horse's  mane  was  soon  out  of  sight  among  the  trees. 

"Ez  I  allow,  ye'd  better  look  out  for  that  yaller- 
skinned  little  varmint,  Cap'n  John,"  quoth  the  old 
man,  carefully  wiping  his  rifle  preparatory  to  re- 
loading it.  "He's  rank  pizen,  he  is,  and  ye'll  have  to 
break  his  neck  sooner  'r  later.  I  'lowed  to  save  ye 
the  trouble,  but  old  Bess  got  mighty  foul  yestiddy, 
with  all  the  shoutings  and  goings  on,  and  I  hain't 
got  no  lead-brush  to  clean  her  out." 

Now  that  I  was  fully  exonerated  I  was  free  to 
go  and  come  as  I  chose ;  nay,  more,  I  was  urged  to 
cast  in  my  lot  with  the  over-mountain  partizans. 
As  to  this,  I  took  counsel  with  Richard  Jennifer 
whilst  the  colonels  were  setting  their  commands  in 
order  for  the  march  and  loading  the  prisoners  with 
the  captured  guns  and  ammunition. 

"What  is  to  the  fore,  Dick?"  I  asked;  "more 
fighting?" 

The  lad  shook  his  head.  "Never  another  blow, 
I  fear,  Jack.  These  fellows  crossed  the  mountain 
to  whip  Ferguson.  Having  done  it  they  will  go 
home." 

I  could  not  forego  a  hearty  curse  upon  this  worst 
of  all  militia  weaknesses,  the  disposition  to  disperse 
as  soon  as  ever  a  battle  was  fought. 

'  'Tis  nigh  on  to  a  crime,"  said  I.  "This  victory, 
smartly  followed  up,  might  well  be  the  turning  of 
the  tide  for  us." 

But  the  lad  would  not  admit  the  qualifying  con- 
dition. "  'Twill  be  no  less  as  it  is,"  he  declared. 


440     THE;  MASTER  OK  APPLEBY. 

"Mark  you,  Jack ;  'twill  put  new  life  into  the  cause 
and  nerve  every  man  of  ours  afresh.  And  as  for  the 
redcoats,  if  my  Lord  Cornwallis  gets  the  news  of 
it  in  a  lump,  as  he  should,  Gates  will  have  plenty 
of  time  to  set  himself  in  motion,  slow  as  he  is." 

'Twas  then  I  had  an  inspiration,  and  I  thought 
upon  it  for  a  moment. 

"What  are  your  plans,  Richard  ?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "I  have  none  worth  the 
name." 

"Then  you  are  not  committed  to  Colonel  Sevier 
for  a  term  of  service  ?" 

"No ;  nor  to  Cleaveland,  nor  McDowell,  nor  any. 
We  heard  there  was  to  be  fighting  hereaway, — 
Ephraim  Yeates  and  I, — and  we  came  as  volun- 
teers." 

"Good!  then  I  have  a  thought  which  may  stand 
for  what  it  is  worth.  To  make  the  most  of  this 
victory  over  Major  Ferguson,  Gates  should  be  ap- 
prised at  once  and  by  a  sure  tongue ;  and  his  Lord- 
ship should  have  the  news  quickly,  too,  and  in  a 
lump,  as  you  say.  Let  us  take  horse  and  ride  post, 
we  two;  you  to  Gates  at  Hillsborough,  and  I  to 
Charlotte." 

"I  had  thought  of  my  part  of  that,"  he  said  in  a 
muse.  Then  he  came  alive  to  the  risk  I  should 
run.  "But  you  can't  well  go  back  to  Cornwallis 
now,  Jack:  'tis  playing  with  death.  There  will  be 
other  news-carriers — there  are  sure  to  be;  and  a 
single  breath  to  whisper  what  you  have  done  will 
hang  you  higher  than  Haman." 


VAE  VICTIS  441 

I  shrugged  at  this.    "  'Tis  but  a  war  hazard." 

He  looked  at  me  curiously.  I  saw  a  shrewd 
question  in  his  eyes  and  set  instant  action  as  a 
barrier  in  the  way  of  its  asking. 

"Let  us  find  Colonel  Sevier  and  beg  us  the  loan 
of  a  pair  of  horses,"  said  I;  and  so  we  were  kept 
from  coming  upon  the  dangerous  ground  of  pointed 
questions  and  evasive  answers. 

Somewhat  to  my  surprise,  both  Sevier  and  Shelby 
fell  in  at  once  with  our  project,  commending  it 
heartily ;  and  I  learned  from  the  lips  of  that  court- 
liest of  frontiersmen,  "Nolichucky  Jack,"  the  real 
reason  for  the  proposed  hurried  return  of  the  over- 
mountain  men.  The  Cherokees,  never  to  be  trusted, 
had,  as  it  seemed,  procured  war  supplies  from  the 
British  posts  to  the  southward,  and  were  even  now 
on  the  verge  of  an  uprising.  By  forced  marches 
these  hardy  borderers  hoped  to  reach  their  homes 
in  time  to  defend  them.  Otherwise,  as  both  com- 
manders assured  us,  they  would  take  the  field  with 
Gates. 

"We  have  done  what  we  could,  Captain  Ireton, 
and  not  altogether  what  we  would,"  said  Sevier  in 
the  summing-up.  "It  remains  now  for  General 
Gates  to  drive  home  the  wedge  we  have  entered." 
Then  he  looked  me  full  in  the  eyes  and  asked  if  I 
thought  Horatio  Gates  would  be  the  man  to  beetle 
that  wedge  well  into  the  log. 

.  I  made  haste  to  say  that  I  knew  little  of  the  gen- 
eral; that  I  was  but  a  prejudiced  witness  at  best, 
since  my  father  had  known  and  misliked  the  man 


442        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

in  Braddock's  ill-fated  campaign  against  the  French' 
in  '55.  But  Richard  spoke  his  mind  more  freely. 

"  'Tis  not  in  the  man  at  this  pass,  Colonel  Se- 
vier,"  he  would  say ;  "not  after  Camden.  I  know  our 
Carolinians  as  well  as  any,  and  they  will  never  stand 
a  second  time  under  a  defeated  leader.  If  General 
Washington  would  send  us  some  one  else;  or,  best 
of  all,  if  he  would  but  come  himself — " 

"George  Washington ;  ah,  there  is  a  man,  indeed," 
said  Sevier,  his  dark-blue  eyes  lighting  up.  "Whilst 
he  lives,  there  is  always  a  good  hope.  But  we  must 
be  doing,  gentlemen,  and  so  must  you.  God  speed 
you  both.  Our  compliments  to  General  Gates,  Mr. 
Jennifer;  and  you  may  tell  him  what  I  have  told 
you — that  but  for  our  redskin  threateners  we 
should  right  gladly  join  him.  As  for  Lord  Corn- 
wallis,  you,  Captain  Ireton,  will  know  best  what  to 
say  to  him.  I  pray  God  you  may  say  it  and  come 
off  alive  to  tell  us  how  he  took  it." 

We  made  our  acknowledgments ;  and  when  I  had 
bespoken  good  care  for  Tybee,  we  took  leave  of  these 
stout  fighters,  and  of  old  Ephraim  as  well,  since  the 
borderer  was  to  serve  as  a  guide  for  the  over- 
mountain  men,  at  least  till  they  were  come  upon  fa- 
miliar ground  to  the  westward. 

'Twas  now  hard  upon  ten  of  the  clock  in  the  fore- 
noon, and  we  had  our  last  sight  of  the  brave  little 
army  whilst  it  was  wending  its  way  slowly  down 
the  slopes  of  King's  Mountain.  Of  what  became  of 
it;  how  its  weary  march  dragged  on  from  day  to 
day ;  how  it  was  hampered  by  the  train  of  captives, 


VAE  VICTIS  443 

halted  by  rain-swollen  torrents,  and  was  well-nigh 
starved  withal;  of  all  these  things  you  may  read 
elsewhere.  But  now  you  must  ride  with  Richard 
Jennifer  and  me,  and  our  way  lay  to  the  eastward. 

All  that  Sunday  we  pressed  forward,  hasting  as 
we  could  through  the  stark  columned  aisles  of  the 
autumn-stripped  forest,  and  looking  hourly  to  come 
upon  Tarleton's  legion  marching  out  to  Ferguson's 
relief. 

Since  Richard  Jennifer  had  ridden  to  the  hounds 
in  all  this  middle  ground  from  boyhood,  we  were 
able  to  take  my  blind  wanderings  in  reverse  as  the 
arrow  flies ;  and  by  nightfall  we  were  well  down 
upon  the  main  traveled  road  leading  to  Beattie's 
fording  of  the  Catawba. 

As  your  map  will  show  you,  this  was  taking  me 
somewhat  out  of  my  way  to  the  northward ;  but  it 
was  Richard's  most  direct  route  to  Salisbury  and 
beyond,  and  by  veering  thus  we  made  the  surer  of 
missing  Colonel  Tarleton,  who,  as  we  thought, 
would  likely  cross  the  river  at  the  lower  ford. 

Once  in  the  high  road  we  pushed  on  briskly  for 
the  river,  nor  did  we  draw  rein  until  the  sweating 
beasts  were  picking  their  way  in  the  darkness  down 
the  last  of  the  hills  which  sentinel  the  Catawba  to 
the  westward. 

At  the  foot  of  this  hill  a  by-road  led  to  Mac- 
gowan's  ford  some  six  miles  farther  down  the  river, 
and  here,  as  I  supposed,  our  ways  would  lie  apart. 
But  when  we  came  to  the  forking  of  the  road, 
Richard  pulled  his  mount  into  the  by-path,  clapping 


444       THE   MASTER  OF)  APPLEBY* 

the  spurs  to  the  tired  horse  so  that  we  were  a  good 
mile  beyond  the  forking  before  I  could  overtake 
him. 

"How  now,  lad?"  said  I,  when  I  had  run  him 
down.  "Would  you  take  a  fighting  hazard  when 
you  need  not?  There  is  sure  to  be  a  British  patrol 
at  the  lower  ford." 

He  jerked  his  beast  down  to  a  walk  and  we  rode 
in  silence  side  by  side  for  a  full  minute  before  he 
said  gruffly :  "You'd  never  find  the  way  alone." 

I  laughed.  "Barring  myself,  you  are  the  clum- 
siest of  evaders,  Dick.  I  am  on  my  own  ground 
here,  and  that  you  know  as  well  as  I." 

"Damn  you!"  he  gritted  between  his  teeth. 
"When  we  are  coming  near  Appleby  Hundred  you 
are  fierce  enough  to  be  rid  of  me." 

I  saw  his  drift  at  that :  how  he  would  take  all  the 
chance  of  capture  and  a  spy's  rope  for  the  sake  of 
passing  within  a  mile  of  Mistress  Margery,  or  of 
the  house  he  thought  she  was  in. 

"Go  back,  Dick,  whilst  you  may,"  said  I.  "She 
is  not  at  Appleby  Hundred." 

He  turned  upon  me  like  a  lion  at  bay. 

"What  have  you  done  with  her  ?" 

"Peace,  you  foolish  boy.  I  am  not  her  keeper. 
Her  father  took  her  to  Charlotte  on  the  very  day 
you  saw  her  safe  at  home." 

He  reined  up  short  in  the  narrow  way.  "So?" 
he  said,  most  bitingly.  "And  that  is  why  you  take 
the  embassy  to  Lord  Cornvvallis  and  fub  me  ofE 


VAE  VICTIS  445 

with  the  one  to  Gates.  By  heaven,  Captain  Ireton, 
we  shall  change  roles  here  and  now !" 

Ah,  my  dears,  the  love-madness  is  a  curious 
thing.  Here  was  a  man  who  had  saved  my  life  so 
many  times  I  had  lost  the  count  of  them,  feeling  for 
my  throat  in  the  murk  of  that  October  night  as  my 
bitterest  foeman  might. 

And  surely  it  was  the  love-demon  in  me  that  made 
me  say:  "You  think  I  am  standing  in  your  way, 
Richard  Jennifer  ?  Well,  so  I  am ;  for  whilst  I  live 
you  may  not  have  her.  Why  don't  you  draw  and 
cut  me  down  ?" 

'Twas  then  Satan  marked  my  dear  lad  for  his 
very  own. 

"On  guard!"  he  cried;  "draw  and  defend  your- 
self!" and  with  that  the  great  claymore  leaped  from 
its  sheath  to  flash  in  the  starlight. 

What  with  his  reining  back  for  space  to  whirl 
the  steel  I  had  the  time  to  parry  the  descending 
blow.  But  at  the  balancing  instant  the  brother- 
hating  devil  had  the  upper  hand,  whispering  me 
that  here  was  the  death  I  coveted;  that  Margery 
might  have  her  lover,  if  so  she  would,  with  her 
husband's  blood  upon  his  head. 

So  I  sat  motionless  while  the  broadsword  cut  its 
circle  in  air  and  came  down;  and  then  I  knew  no 
more  till  I  came  to  with  a  bees'  hive  buzzing  in  my 
ears,  to  find  myself  lying  in  the  dank  grass  at  the 
path  side.  My  head  was  on  Richard's  knee,  and  he 
was  dabbling  it  with  water  in  his  soaked  kerchief. 


XLI 

HOW  I  PLAYED  THE  HOST  AT  MY  OWN  FIRESIDE 

You  may  be  sure  that  by  now  the  anger  gale  had 
blown  itself  out,  that  the  madness  had  passed  for 
both  of  us ;  and  when  I  stirred,  Richard  broke  out 
in  a  tremulous  babblement  of  thanksgiving  for  that 
he  had  not  slain  me  outright. 

"I  was  mad,  Jack;  as  mad  as  any  Bedlamite,"  he 
would  say.  "The  devil  whispered  me  that  you 
would  fight;  that  you  wanted  but  a  decent  excuse 
to  thrust  me  out  of  the  way.  And  when  I  saw  you 
would  not  stir,  'twas  too  late  to  do  aught  but  turn 
the  flat  of  the  blade.  Oh,  God  help  me !  I'll  never 
let  a  second  thought  of  that  little  Tory  prat-a-pace 
send  me  to  hell  again." 

"Nay,"  said  I;  "no  such  rash  promises,  I  pray 
you,  Richard.  We  are  but  two  poor  fools,  with  the 
love  of  a  woman  set  fair  between  us.  But  you  need 
not  fight  me  for  it.  The  love  is  yours — not  mine." 

"Don't  say  that,  Jack;  I'm  selfish  enough  to  wish 
it  were  true ;  as  it  is  not.  I  know  whereof  I  speak." 

"No,"  I  denied,  struggling  to  my  feet;  "it  has 
been  yours  from  the  first,  Dick.  I  am  but  a  sorry 
interloper." 

'446 


HOST   AT   MY   OWN    FIRESIDE     447 

For  a  moment  he  was  all  solicitude  to  know  if 
my  head  would  let  me  stand ;  but  when  I  showed 
him  I  was  no  more  than  clumsily  dizzy  from  the 
effects  of  the  blow,  he  went  on. 

"I  say  I  know,  and  I  do,  Jack.  She  has  refused 
me  again." 

I  groaned  in  spirit.  I  knew  it  must  have  come 
to  that.  Yet  I  would  ask  when  and  where. 

"  'Twas  on  our  last  day's  riding,"  he  went  on ; 
"after  we  had  had  your  note  saying  you  would 
undertake  a  mission  for  Colonel  Davie." 

I  took  two  steps  and  groped  for  the  horse's  bridle 
rein. 

"Did  she  tell  you  why  she  must  refuse  you  ?" 

He  helped  me  find  the  rein  for  my  hand  and  the 
stirrup  for  my  foot. 

"There  was  no  'why'  but  the  one — she  does  not 
love  me." 

"But  I  say  she  does,  Dick;  and  I,  too,  know 
whereof  I  speak." 

He  flung  me  into  the  saddle  as  a  strong  man 
might  toss  a  boy,  and  I  understood  how  that  saying 
of  mine  had  gone  into  his  blood. 

"Then  there  must  be  some  barrier  that  I  know  not 
of,"  he  said.  Whereupon  he  put  hand  to  head  as  one 
who  tries  to  remember.  "Stay;  did  you  not  say 
there  was  a  barrier,  Jack  ? — when  we  were  wrestling 
with  death  in  the  Indian  fires  ?  Or  did  I  dream  it  ?" 

"You  did  not  dream  it.  But  you  were  telling  me 
what  she  said." 

"Oh,  yes ;  'twas  little  enough.    She  cut  me  off  at 


448       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

tKe  first  word  as  if  my  speaking  were  a  mortal  sin. 
And  when  I  would  have  tried  again,  she  gave  me  a 
look  to  make  me  wince  and  broke  out  crying  as  if 
her  heart  would  burst." 

I  steadied  myself  as  I  could  by  the  saddle  horn 
and  waited  till  he  was  up  and  we  were  moving  on. 
Then  I  would  say:  "Trulyr  there  is  a  barrier, 
Richard ;  if  I  promise  you  that  I  am  going  to  Char- 
lotte to  remove  it  once  for  all,  will  you  trust  me 
and  go  about  your  affair  with  General  Gates?" 

"Trust  you,  Jack?  Who  am  I  that  I  should  do 
aught  else?  When  I  am  cool  and  sane,  I'm  none  so 
cursed  selfish;  I  could  even  give  her  over  to  you 
with  a  free  hand,  could  I  but  hear  her  say  she  loves 
you  as  I  would  have  her  love  me.  But  when  I  am 
mad.  .  .  Ah,  God  only  knows  the  black  blood 
there  is  in  the  heart  at  such  times." 

We  rode  on  together  in  silence  after  that,  and 
were  come  to  the  bank  of  the  river  before  we  spoke 
again.  But  here  Dick  went  back  to  my  warning, 
saying,  whilst  we  let  the  horses  drink :  "  'Tis  pa- 
trolled on  the  other  bank,  you  say?" 

"It  was  when  I  passed  it  a  few  days  agone." 

"Then  I  will  turn  back  and  cross  at  Beattie's. 
'Twill  make  you  a  risk  you  need  not  take — to  have 
me  with  you." 

But  I  thought  now  that  the  upper  ford  might  be 
guarded  as  well ;  and  if  there  must  be  a  cutting  of 
a  road  through  the  enemy's  outpost  line  for  Dick, 
two  could  do  it  better  than  one.  So  I  said : 

"No ;  we  are  here  now,  and  if  need  be  I  can  lend 


HOST   AT   MY   OWN   FIRESIDE     449 

you  the  weight  of  a  second  blade  to  see  you  safe 
through." 

"And  you  with  your  head  humming  like  a  basket 
of  bees,  as  I  make  no  doubt  it  will  ?" 

I  laughed.  "I  should  be  but  a  sorry  soldier  and 
a  sorrier  friend  if  I  should  let  a  love-tap  with  the 
flat  of  a  blade  make  me  fail  you  at  the  pinch." 

He  reached  across  the  little  gap  that  parted  us 
and  grasped  my  hand. 

"By  God !"  he  swore,  most  feelingly,  "you  are  as 
true  as  the  steel  you  carry,  Jack  Ireton !" 

"Nay,"  said  I,  in  honest  shame;  "I  do  confess  I 
was  thinking  less  of  my  friend  than  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  errand  he  rides  on." 

"But  if  there  should  be  a  fight,  you  will  spoil 
your  chance  of  coming  peaceably  to  Charlotte  and 
my  Lord's  headquarters." 

"If  I  am  recognized — yes.  But  the  night  is  dark, 
and  a  brush  with  the  outpost  need  not  betray  me." 

At  this  he  consented  grudgingly,  and  we  pushed 
on  to  the  crossing.  Now  since  this  fording  place 
of  Master  Macgowan's  has  marched  into  our  his- 
tory, you  will  like  to  know  what  the  historians  do 
not  tell  you:  namely,  how  it  was  but  a  makeshift 
wading  place,  armpit  deep  over  a  muddy  bottom 
from  the  western  bank  to  the  bar  above  an  island  in 
mid-stream,  and  deflecting  thence  through  rocky 
shallows  to  a  point  on  the  eastern  bank  some  dis- 
tance below  the  island.  'Twas  here  that  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  got  entangled  some  months  later — but  I  must 
not  anticipate. 


450       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY; 

We  made  the  crossing  of  the  main  current  in 
safety  and  were  a-splash  in  the  rocky  shallows  be- 
yond the  island  when  we  sighted  the  camp-fires  of 
the  outpost.  To  ride  straight  upon  the  patrol  was 
to  invite  disaster,  and  though  Jennifer  was  for  a 
charging  dash,  a  hurly-burly  with  the  steel,  and  so 
on  to  freedom  beyond,  he  listened  when  I  pointed 
out  that  our  beasts  were  too  nearly  outworn  to 
charge,  and  that  the  noise  we  must  make  would 
rouse  the  camp  and  draw  the  fire  of  every  piece  in 
it  long  before  we  could  reach  the  bank  and  come  to 
blade  work. 

"What  for  it,  then  ?"  he  asked,  impatiently.  "My 
courage  is  freezing  whilst  we  wait." 

"There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  hold  straight  on 
across,"  I  said. 

"That  we  can  not ;  'twill  be  over  the  horses'  ears. 
The  beasts  will  drown  themselves  and  us  as  well." 

How  we  should  have  argued  it  out  I  do  not  know, 
for  just  then  Jennifer's  horse,  scenting  the  troop 
mounts  on  the  farther  shore,  cocked  tail  and  ears, 
let  out  a  squealing  neigh,  and  fell  to  curveting  and 
plunging  in  a  racket  that  might  have  stood  for  the 
splashings  of  an  advancing  army. 

In  a  twinkling  the  outpost  camp  was  astir  and  a 
bellowing  hail  came  to  us  across  the  water.  Having 
no  answer,  the  troopers  began  to  let  off  their  pieces 
haphazard  in  the  darkness;  and  with  the  singing 
sip  of  the  first  musket  ball,  Richard  went  battle- 
mad,  as  he  always  did  in  the  face  of  danger. 

"At  them!"  he  thundered,  clapping  spurs  to  his 


HOST   AT   MY   OWN   FIRESIDE     451 

jaded  beast  and  whipping  out  the  great  claymore; 
and  so  we  charged,  the  forlornest  hope  that  ever 
fell  upon  an  enemy. 

How  we  came  ashore  alive  through  the  gun-fire 
is  one  of  those  mysteries  to  which  every  battle  adds 
its  quota ;  but  the  poor  beasts  we  rode  were  not  so 
lucky.  Jennifer's  horse  went  down  while  we  were 
yet  some  yards  from  the  bank ;  and  mine  fell  a  mo- 
ment later.  To  face  a  score  of  waiting  enemies 
afoot  was  too  much  for  even  Richard's  rash  cour- 
age ;  so  when  we  were  free  of  the  struggling  horses 
we  promptly  dove  for  shelter  under  the  up-stream 
bank. 

Here  the  darkness  stood  our  friend ;  and  when 
the  redcoat  troopers  came  down  to  the  river's 
edge  with  torches  to  see  what  had  become  of  us, 
we  took  advantage  of  the  noise  they  made  and  stole 
away  up-stream  till  a  shelving  beach  gave  us  leave 
to  climb  to  the  valley  level  above. 

Richard  shook  himself  like  a  water-soaked  spaniel 
and  laughed  grimly. 

"Well,  here  we  are,  safe  across,  horseless,  and 
well  belike  to  freeze  to  death,"  he  commented. 
"What  next?" 

I  made  him  a  bow.  "You  are  on  my  demesne  of 
Appleby  Hundred,  Captain  Jennifer,  and  it  shall  go 
hard  with  us  if  we  can  not  find  a  fire  to  warm  a 
guest  and  a  horse  to  mount  him  withal.  Let  us  go 
to  the  manor  house  and  see  what  we  can  discover." 

He  entered  at  once  into  the  spirit  of  the  jest,  and 
together  we  trudged  the  scant  mile  through  the 


452       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

stubble-fields  to  my  old  roof-tree.  As  you  would 
guess,  we  looked  to  find  the  manor  house  turned 
into  an  outpost  headquarters;  but  now  we  were 
desperate  enough  to  face  anything. 

Howbeit,  not  to  rush  blindly  into  the  jaws  of  a 
trap,  we  first  routed  out  the  old  black  majordomo 
at  the  negro  quarters;  and  when  we  learned  from 
him  that  the  great  house  was  quite  deserted,  we 
took  possession  and  had  the  black  make  us  a  rous- 
ing fire  in  the  kitchen-arch.  Nay,  more ;  when  we 
had  steamed  ourselves  a  little  dry,  we  had  old  An- 
thony stew  and  grill  for  us,  and  fetch  us  a  bottle 
of  that  madeira  of  my  father's  laying  in. 

"A  toast!"  cried  Richard,  when  the  bottle  came, 
springing  to  his  feet  with  the  glass  held  higK.  "To 
the  dear  lady  of  Appleby  Hundred,  and  may  she 
forgather  with  the  man  she  loves  best,  be  it  you,  or 
I,  or  another,  Jack  Ireton !" 

We  drank  it  standing ;  and  after  would  sit  before 
the  fire,  havering  like  two  love-sick  school-boys 
over  the  charms  of  that  dear  lady  to  whom  one  of 
us  was  less  than  naught,  and  to  whom  the  other 
could  be  but  naught  whilst  that  first  one  lived. 

You  will  smile,  my  dears,  that  we  should  come  to 
this  when,  but  a  short  hour  before,  one  of  us  had 
been  bent  upon  slaying  the  other  for  Mistress  Mar- 
gery's sake.  But  the  human  heart  is  many-sided; 
notably  that  heart  the  soldier  carries.  And  though 
I  looked  not  to  live  beyond  the  setting  of  another 
sun,  I  was  glad  to  my  finger-tips  to  have  this  last 
loving-cup  with  my  dear  lad.  I  thought  it  would 


HOST   AT    MY   OWN    FIRESIDE     453 

nerve  me  bravely  for  what  must  come — and  so  it 
did,  though  not  as  I  prefigured. 

We  were  still  sitting  thus  before  the  kitchen-arch 
when  the  dawn  began  to  dim  the  firelight,  and  the 
work  of  the  new  day  confronted  us.  Pinned  down, 
old  Anthony  confessed  that  some  two  or  three 
horses  of  the  Appleby  Hundred  stables  had  escaped 
the  hands  of  the  foragers  of  both  sides ;  and  two  of 
these  he  fetched  for  us.  Of  the  twain  one  chanced 
to  be  Blackstar,  the  good  beast  which  had  carried 
me  from  New  Berne  in  the  spring;  and  so  I  had 
my  own  horse  betwixt  my  knees  when  I  set  Dick  a 
mile  on  the  road  to  Salisbury,  and  bade  him  farewell. 

His  last  word  to  me  was  one  of  generous  caution. 

"Remember,  Jack;  'haste,  haste,  post  haste'  is 
your  watchword.  There  will  be  other  couriers  in 
from  the  battle-field  at  King's  Mountain;  and  you 
must  hang  and  fire  your  news-petard  and  vanish 
before  they  come  to  betray  you." 

"Trust  me,"  said  I,  evasively ;  and  so  we  parted, 
he  to  gallop  eastward,  and  I  to  charge  down  peace- 
ably upon  that  British  outpost  we  had  set  abuzz  in 
the  small  hours  of  the  night. 


XLII 

IN  WHICH  MY  LORD  HAS  HIS  MARCHING  ORDERS 

Though  I  had  passed  out  of  the  British  lines 
less  than  a  week  before  in  decent  good  odor,  save 
for  Colonel  Tarleton's  ill  word,  I  met  with  nothing 
like  the  welcome  at  the  outpost  camp  that  a  king's 
courier  had  a  right  to  expect. 

The  captain  in  command  was  not  the  one  who 
had  passed  me  out,  he  was  a  surly  brute  of  the 
Yorkshire  breed;  and  when  he  had  heard  that  I 
was  an  express  rider  from  Major  Ferguson,  he  was 
pleased  to  demand  my  papers. 

To  this  I  must  needs  make  answer  that  I  carried 
no  written  despatches;  that  my  news  was  for  the 
commander-in-chief's  private  ear.  This  I  told  my 
Yorkshire  pig,  demanding  to  be  sent,  under  guard 
if  he  chose,  to  the  headquarters  in  Charlotte. 

But  Captain  Nobbut  would  hear  to  no  such  rea- 
sonable proposal.  On  the  contrary,  he  would  hold 
me  in  arrest  till  he  could  report  me  and  have  in- 
structions from  his  colonel. 

Knowing  what  a  stake  it  was  I  rode  for,  you  may 
imagine  how  this  day  in  durance  ate  into  me  like  a 
454 


MY   LORD'S   MARCHING   ORDERS    "455 

'canker.  With  ordinary  diligence  th'e  trooper  who 
carried  the  news  of  me  should  have  gone  to  Char- 
lotte by  way  of  Queensborough  and  returned  by 
noon.  But  being  of  the  same  surly  breed  with  his 
captain,  'twas  full  three  of  the  clock  before  he  came 
ambling  back  with  an  order  to  set  me  forthwith 
upon  the  road  to  headquarters. 

Once  free  of  the  camp  of  detention  you  may  be 
sure  I  put  Blackstar  to  his  best  paces;  but  hasten 
as  I  would  it  was  coming  on  to  evening  when  I 
passed  the  inner  safety  line  and  galloped  down  the 
high  street  of  the  town. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  the  first  familiar  face  I 
saw  was  that  of  Charles  Stedman,  the  commissary- 
general.  On  my  inquiry  he  directed  me  straight. 

"My  Lord  is  at  supper  at  Mr.  Stair's.  Have  you 
news,  Captain?" 

I  drew  breath  of  relief.  Happily  the  loss  of 
the  day  had  not  made  me  the  bearer  of  stale  tidings. 
So  I  made  answer  with  proper  reticence,  saying 
that  I  had  news,  but  it  was  for  Lord  Cornwallis's 
ear  first  of  all.  None  the  less,  if  the  commissary- 
general  were  pleased  to  come  with  me — 

He  took  the  hint  at  once ;  and  he  it  was  who  pro- 
cured me  instant  admittance  to  the  house,  and  who 
took  on  himself  the  responsibility  of  breaking  in 
upon  the  party  in  the  supper-room. 

I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  scene  that  fronted  us 
when  we  came  into  my  Lord's  presence.  The  supper 
was  in  some  sort  a  gala  feast  held  in  honor  of  my 
Lord's  accession  to  his  earldom.  The  table,  lighted 


456       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

by  great  silver  candelabra  which  I  recognized  as 
Ireton  heirlooms,  was  well  filled  around  by  the 
members  of  the  commander-in-chief's  military  fam- 
ily, with  the  earl  at  the  head,  and  Mistress  Margery, 
bedight  as  befitted  a  lady  of  the  quality,  behind  the 
tea-urn  at  the  foot. 

At  our  incoming  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  us, 
but  it  required  my  Lord's  sharp  question  to  make  me 
leave  off  dwelling  upon  my  sweet  lady's  radiant 
beauty. 

"How  now,  Captain  Ireton?  Do  you  bring  us 
news  from  the  major?" 

I  broke  the  fascinating  eyehold  and  turned  slowly 
to  face  my  fate. 

"I  do,  my  Lord." 

"Well,  what  of  him?  You  left  him  hastening  to 
rejoin  with  his  new  loyalist  levies,  I  hope?" 

I  drew  my  sword,  reversed  it  and  laid  it  upon  the 
table. 

"May  all  the  enemies  of  the  Commonwealth  be 
even  as  he  is,  my  Lord,"  I  said,  quietly. 

Now,  truly,  I  had  hanged  my  petard  well  and 
'twas  plain  the  shock  of  it  had  gone  far  to  shatter 
the  wall  of  confidence  our  enemies  had  builded  on 
the  field  of  Camden  and  elsewhere.  Had  a  hand- 
grenade  with  the  fuse  alight  been  dropped  upon 
the  table,  the  consternation  could  scarce  have  been 
greater.  To  a  man  the  tableful  was  up  and  throng- 
ing round  me;  but  above  all  the  hubbub  I  heard  a 
little  cry  of  misery  from  the  table-foot  where  my 
lady  sat. 


MY   LORD'S   MARCHING  ORDERS    457 

"How  is  this,  sir? — explain  yourself!''  thundered 
my  Lord,  forgetting  for  once  his  mild  suavity. 

"  Tis  but  a  brief  tale,  and  I  will  make  it  as  crisp 
as  may  be  in  the  telling,"  I  replied.  "I  came  upon 
the  major  some  miles  this  side  of  the  crossing  of 
the  Broad.  He  was  marching  to  rejoin  you,  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  orders.  But  when  he  had  your 
Lordship's  command  to  stand  and  fight,  he  obeyed." 

''My  command  ? — but  I  gave  him  no  such  order !" 

"Nay,  truly,  you  did  not — neither  in  the  original 
nor  in  the  duplicate,  my  Lord.  But  when  we  had 
waylaid  Lieutenant  Tybee  and  quenched  the  dupli- 
cate, and  had  so  amended  the  original  as  to  make 
it  fit  our  purpose,  the  brave  major  thanked  you  for 
what  you  had  not  done  and  made  his  stand  to 
await  the  upcoming  of  the  over-mountain  men." 

For  a  moment  I  thought  they  would  hew  me  limb 
from  limb,  but  my  Lord  quelled  the  fierce  outburst 
with  a  word. 

"Put  up  your  swords,  gentlemen.  We  shall  know 
how  to  deal  with  this  traitor,"  he  said.  And  then 
to  me :  "Go  on,  sir,  if  you  please ;  there  has  been  a 
battle,  as  I  take  it?" 

"There  has,  indeed.  The  mountain  men  came  up 
with  us  in  the  afternoon  of  the  Saturday.  In  an 
hour  one-third  of  the  major's  force  was  dead  or 
dying,  the  major  himself  was  slain,  and  every  living 
man  left  on  the  field  was  a  prisoner." 

Again  a  dozen  swords  hissed  from  their  scab- 
bards, and  again  I  heard  the  little  cry  of  misery 
from  the  table-foot.  I  bowed  my  head,  looking 


r458       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

momently  to  pay  the  penalty;  but  once  more  my 
;Lord  put  the  swords  aside. 

"Let  us  have  a  clean  breast  of  it  this  time,  Cap- 
tain Ireton,"  he  said.  "You  know  well  what  you 
,have  earned,  and  nothing  you  can  say  will  make  it 
better  or  worse  for  you.  Was  this  your  purpose 
in  making  your  submission  to  me  ?" 

"It  was." 

"And  you  have  been  a  rebel  from  the  first  ?" 

I  met  the  cold  anger  in  the  womanish  eyes  as  a 
condemned  man  might. 

"I  have,  my  Lord — since  the  day  nine  years 
agone  when  I  learned  that  your  king's  minions  had 
hanged  my  father  in  the  Regulation." 

"Then  it  was  a  farrago  of  lies  you  told  me  about 
your  adventures  in  the  western  mountains  ?" 

"Not  wholly.  It  was  your  Lordship's  good  pleas- 
ure to  send  succors  of  powder  and  lead  to  your 
allies,  the  western  savages.  I  and  three  others  fol- 
lowed Captain  Falconnet  and  his  Indians,  and  I 
have  the  honor  to  report  that  we  overtook  and  ex- 
ploded them  with  their  own  powder  cargo." 

"And  Captain  Sir  Francis  Falconnet  with 
them?" 

"I  do  so  hope  and  trust,  my  Lord." 

He  turned  short  on  his  heel,  and  for  a  moment  a 
silence  as  of  death  fell  upon  the  room.  Then  he 
took  the  Ferara  from  the  table  and  sought  to  break 
it  over  his  knee ;  but  the  good  blade,  like  the  cause 
it  stood  for,  bent  like  a  withe  and  would  not  snap. 

"Put  this  spy  in  irons  and  clear  the  room,"  he 


MY   LORD'S    MARCHING   ORDERS     459 

ordered  sharply.  And  this  is  how  the  little  drama 
ended :  with  the  supper  guests  crowding  to  the  door ; 
with  my  Lord  pacing  back  and  forth  at  the  table- 
head  ;  with  two  sergeants  bearing  me  away  to  await, 
where  and  how  I  knew  not,  the  word  which  should 
efface  me. 


XLIII 

IN   WHICH    I  DRINK   A  DISH  OF  TEA 

Being  without  specific  orders  w'Kat  to  do  with 
me,  my  two  sergeant  bailiffs  thrust  me  into  that 
little  den  of  a  strong-room  below  stairs  where  I 
had  once  found  the  master  of  the  house,  and  one  of 
them  mounted  guard  whilst  the  other  fetched  the 
camp  armorer  to  iron  me. 

The  shackles  securely  on,  I  was  left  to  content  me 
as  I  could,  with  the  door  ajar  and  my  two  jailers 
hobnobbing  before  it.  Having  done  all  I  had 
hoped  to  do,  there  was  nothing  for  it  now  but  to 
wait  upon  the  consequences.  So,  hitching  my  chair 
up  to  the  oaken  table,  I  made  a  pillow  of  my  fettered 
wrists  and  presently  fell  adoze. 

I  know  not  what  hour  of  the  night  it  was  when 
the  half-blood  Scipio,  who  was  Mr.  Gilbert  Stair's 
body-servant,  came  in  and  roused  me.  I  started  up 
suddenly  at  his  touch,  making  no  doubt  it  was  my 
summons.  But  the  mulatto  brought  me  nothing 
worse  than  a  cold  fowl  and  a  loaf,  with  a  candle- 
end  to  see  to  eat  them  by,  and  a  dish  of  hot  tea  to 
wash  them  down. 

"460 


I   DRINK   A   DISH   OF   TEA         461 

I  knew  well  enough  whom  I  had  to  thank  for 
this,  and  was  set  wondering  that  my  lady's  charity 
was  broad  enough  to  mantle  even  by  this  little  my 
latest  sins  against  the  king's  cause.  None  the  less, 
I  ate  and  drank  gratefully,  draining  the  tea-dish  to 
the  dregs — which,  by  the  by,  were  strangely  bitter. 

i,  I  had  scarce  finished  picking  the  bones  of  the 
capon  before  sleep  came  again  to  drag  at  my  eye- 
lids, a  drowsiness  so  masterful  that  I  could  make 
no  head  against  it.  And  so,  with  the  bitter  taste 
of  the  tea  still  on  my  tongue,  I  fell  away  a  second 
time  into  the  pit  of  forgetfulness. 

';  When  I  awakened  from  what  seemed  in  the  mem- 
ory of  it  the  most  unresting  sleep  I  ever  had,  it 
was  no  longer  night,  and  I  was  stretched  upon  the 
oaken  settle  in  that  same  lumber  garret  wKere  I  had 
been  bedded  through  that  other  night  of  hiding. 
So  much  I  saw  at  the  waking  glance;  and  then  I 
realized,  vaguely  at  first,  but  presently  with  startling 
emphasis,  that  it  was  the  westering  sun  which  was 
shining  in  at  the  high  roof,  windows,  that  the 
shackles  were  still  on,  and  that  my  temples  were 
throbbing  with  a  most  skull-splitting  headache. 

i  Being  fair  agasp  with  astoundment  at  this  new 
spinning  of  fate's  wheel,  I  sprang  up  quickly — and 
was  as  quickly  glad  to  fall  back  upon  the  pallet. 
For  with  the  upstart  a  heaving  nausea  came  to 
supplement  the  headache,  and  for  a  long  time  I 
lay  bat-blind  and  sick  as  any  landsman  in  his  first 
gale  at  sea. 
The  sunlight  was  fading  from  the  high*  windows, 


462       THE  MASTER  OF.  APPLEBY 

and  I  was  deep  sunk  in  a  sick  man's  megrims,  before 
aught  came  to  disturb  the  silence  of  the  cobwebbed 
garret.  From  nausea  and  racking  pains  I  had 
come  to  the  stage  of  querulous  self-pity.  Twas 
monstrous,  this  burying  a  man  alive,  ill,  fettered, 
uncared-for,  to  live  or  die  in  utter  solitude  as  might 
happen.  I  could  not  remotely  guess  to  whom  I 
owed  this  dismal  fate,  and  was  too  petulant  to 
speculate  upon  it.  But  the  meddler,  friend  or  foe, 
who  had  bereft  me  of  my  chance  to  die  whilst  I  was 
fit  and  ready,  came  in  for  a  Turkish  cursing — the 
curse  that  calls  down  in  all  the  Osmanli  variants 
the  same  pangs  in  duplicate  upon  the  banned  one. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  these  impotent  fits 
of  malediction  that  the  wainscot  door  was  opened 
and  closed  softly,  and  light  footsteps  tiptoed  to  my 
bedside.  I  shut  my  eyes  wilfully  when  a  voice  low 
and  tender  asked:  "Are  you  awake,  Monsieur 
John?" 

I  hope  you  will  hold  me  forgiven,  my  dears,  if 
I  confess  that  what  with  the  nausea  and  the  head- 
ache, the  fetters  and  the  solitude,  I  was  rabid  enough 
to  rail  at  her.  'Twas  so  near  dusk  in  the  ill-lighted 
garret  that  I  could  not  see  how  she  took  it ;  but  she 
let  me  know  by  word  of  mouth. 

"Merci,  Monsieur,"  she  said,  icily.  And  then: 
"Gratitude  does  not  seem  to  be  amongst  your  gifts." 

At  this  I  broke  out  in  all  a  sick  man's  pettish- 
ness. 

"Gratitude!  Mayhap  you  will  tell  me  what  it 
is  I  have  to  be  grateful  for.  All  I  craved  was  the 


I   DRINK  A   DISH   OF   TEA         463 

chance  to  die  as  a  soldier  should,  and  some  one  must 
needs  spoil  me  of  that !" 

"Selfish — selfish  always  and  to  the  last,"  she  mur- 
mured. "Do  you  never  give  a  moment's  thought  to 
the  feelings  of  others,  Captain  Ireton  ?" 

This  was  past  all  endurance. 

"If  I  had  not,  should  I  be  here  this  moment?"  I 
raved.  "You  do  make  me  sicker  than  I  was,  my 
lady." 

"Yet  I  say  you  are  selfish,"  she  insisted.  "What 
have  I  done  that  you  should  come  here  to  have 
yourself  hanged  for  a  spy  ?'' 

"Let  us  have  plain  speech,  in  God's  name,"  I  re- 
torted. "You  know  well  enough  there  was  no  better 
way  in  which  I  could  serve  you." 

"Do  I,  indeed,  man  ami?"  she  flashed  out.  "Let 
me  tell  you,  sir,  had  she  ever  a  blush  of  saving  pride, 
Margery  Stair — or  Margery  Ireton,  if  you  like  that 
better — would  kill  you  with  her  own  hand  rather 
than  have  it  said  her  husband  died  upon  a  gal- 
lows!" 

A  sudden  light  broke  in  upon  me  and  I  went  blind 
in  the  horror  of  it. 

"God  in  Heaven!"  I  gasped;  "'twas  you,  then? 
I  do  believe  you  poisoned  me  in  that  dish  of  tea 
you  sent  me  last  night !" 

She  laughed,  a  bitter  little  laugh  that  I  hated  to 
think  on  afterward. 

"You  have  a  most  chivalrous  soul,  Captain  Ireton. 
I  do  not  wonder  you  are  so  fierce  to  shake  it  free 
of  the  poor  body  of  clay." 


464       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

"But  you  do  not  deny  it !"  I  cried. 

"Of  what  use  would  it  be?  I  have  said  that  I 
would  not  have  you  die  shamefully  on  the  gallows ; 
so  I  may  as  well  confess  to  the  poppy- juice  in  the 
tea.  Tell  me,  Monsieur  John ;  was  it  nasty  bitter  ?" 

"Good  Lord !"  I  groaned ;  "are  you  a  woman,  or  a 
fiend?" 

"Either,  or  both,  as  you  like  to  hold  me,  sir.  But 
come  what  might,  I  said  you  should  not  die  a  felon's 
death.  And  you  have  not,  as  yet." 

"Better  a  thousand  times  the  rope  and  tree  than 
that  I  should  rot  by  inches  here  with  you  to  sit 
by  and  gird  at  me.  Ah,  my  lady,  you  are  having 
your  revenge  of  me." 

"Merci,  encore.     Shall  I  go  away  and  leave  you  ?" 

"No,  not  that."  A  cold  sweat  broke  out  upon 
me  in  a  sudden  childish  horror  of  the  solitude  and 
the  darkness  and  the  fetters.  And  then  I  added: 
"But  'twould  be  angel  kindness  if  you  would  leave 
off  torturing  me.  I  am  but  a  man,  dear  lady,  and  a 
sick  man  at  that." 

All  in  a  flash  her  mood  changed  and  she  bent  to 
lay  a  cool  palm  on  my  throbbing  temples. 

"Poor  Monsieur  John !"  she  said  softly ;  "I  meant 
not  to  make  you  suffer  more,  but  rather  less."  Then 
she  found  water  and  a  napkin  to  wring  out  and  bind 
upon  my  aching  head. 

At  the  touch  and  the  word  of  womanly  sympathy 
I  forgot  all,  and  the  love-madness  came  again 
to  blot  out  the  very  present  memory  of  how  she 
had  brought  me  to  this. 


I   DRINK  A   DISH   OF   TEA         465 

"Ah,  that  is  better— better,"  I  sighed,  when  the 
pounding  hammers  in  my  temples  gave  me  some 
surcease  of  the  agony. 

'Then  you  forgive  me?"  she  asked,  whether  jest- 
ingly or  in  earnest  I  could  not  tell. 

"There  is  none  so  much  to  forgive,"  I  replied. 
"One  hopeless  day  last  summer  I  put  my  life  in 
pledge  to  you;  and  you — in  common  justice  you 
have  the  right  to  do  what  you  will  with  it." 

"Ah;  now  you  talk  more  like  my  old-time  Mon- 
sieur John  with  the  healing  sword-thrust.  But  that 
day  you  speak  of  was  not  more  hopeless  for  you 
than  for  me." 

"I  know  it,"  said  I,  thinking  only  of  how  the 
loveless  marriage  must  grind  upon  her.  "But  it 
must  needs  be  hopeless  for  both  till  death  steps  in 
to  break  the  bond." 

Again  she  laughed,  that  same  bitter  little  laugh. 

"Indeed,  it  was  a  great  wrong  you  did  that  night, 
sir.  I  could  wish,  as  heartily  as  you,  that  it  might 
be  undone.  But  this  is  idle  talk.  Let  me  see  if  this 
key  will  fit  your  manacles.  I  have  been  all  day  find- 
ing out  who  had  it,  and  I  am  not  sure  it  will  be  the 
right  one,  after  all." 

But  it  did  prove  to  be  the  right  one;  and  when 
the  irons  were  off  I  felt  more  like  a  man  and 
less  like  a  baited  bear. 

"That  is  better,"  said  I,  drawing  breath  of  un- 
feigned relief.  "I  bear  my  Lord  Charles  no  malice, 
but  'twas  a  needless  precaution,  this  ironing  of  a 
man  who  was  never  minded  to  run  away." 


466       THE   MASTER  OF   APPLEBY 

"But  you  are  going  to  run  away,"  she  said,  de- 
cisively; "and  that  as  soon  as  ever  you  are  able  to 
hold  a  horse  between  your  knees.  Shall  I  bring 
you  another  dish  of  tea?  Nay,  never  look  so  hor- 
rified ;  I  shall  not  poison  you  this  time." 

"Stay,"  I  cried.  "You  mean  that  you  are  going 
to  help  me  escape?  'Tis  a  needless  prolonging 
of  the  agony.  Go  and  tell  the  guards  where  they 
can  find  me." 

She  stopped  midway  to  the  wainscot  door  and 
turned  to  give  me  my  answer. 

"No ;  you  are  a  soldier,  and — and  I  will  not  be  a 
gallows-widow.  Do  you  hear,  sir?  If  you  are  so 
eager  to  die,  there  is  always  the  battle-field."  And 
with  that  she  left  me. 

I  may  pass  over  the  two  succeeding  days  in  the 
silence  I  was  condemned  to  endure  through  the 
major  part  of  them.  After  that  first  visit,  Margery 
came  only  at  stated  intervals  to  bring  me  food  and 
drink,  and  my  nurse  was  an  old  black  beldame, 
either  deaf  and  dumb,  or  else  so  newly  from  the 
Guinea  Coast  as  to  be  unable  to  twist  her  tongue  to 
the  English. 

And  in  the  food-bringings  I  could  neither  make 
my  lady  stay  nor  answer  any  question ;  this  though 
I  was  hungering  to  know  what  was  going  on  be- 
yond the  walls  of  my  garret  prison.  Indeed,  she 
would  not  even  tell  me  how  I  had  been  spirited 
away  from  the  two  sergeants  keeping  watch  over 
me  in  her  father's  strong-room  below  stairs.  "That 


I   DRINK  A   PISH   OF   TEA         467 

is  Scipio's  secret,"  she  would  say,  laughing  at  me, 
"and  he  shall  keep  it." 

But  in  the  evening  of  the  third  day  the  mystery 
bubble  was  burst^  and  I  learned  from  Margery's 
lips  the  thing  I  longed  to  know.  Lord  Cornwallis 
had  decided  to  abandon  North  Carolina,  and  in  an 
hour  or  two  the  army  would  be  in  motion  for  with- 
drawal to  the  southward. 

"Now,  thanks  be  to  God!"  I  said,  most  fervently. 
"King's  Mountain  has  begun  the  good  work,  and  we 
shall  show  Farmer  George  a  thing  or  two  he  had  not 
guessed." 

On  this,  my  lady  drew  herself  up  most  proudly 
and  her  lip  curled. 

"You  forget,  sir,  you  are  speaking  to  Mr.  Gilbert 
Stair's  daughter." 

"True,"  said  I ;  "I  did  forget.  We  are  at  cross 
purposes  in  this,  as  in  all  things  else.  I  crave  your 
pardon,  Madam." 

Her  eyes  were  snapping  by  now.  Never  tell  me, 
my  dears,  that  eyes  of  the  blue-gray  can  not  flash 
fire  when  they  will. 

"How  painstakingly  you  will  go  about  to  make 
me  hate  you !"  she  burst  out.  And  then,  all  in  the 
same  breath :  "But  you  will  be  rid  of  me  presently, 
for  good  and  all." 

"Nay,  then,  Mistress  Margery,  you  are  always 
taking  an  ell  of  meaning  for  my  inch  of  speech. 
'Tis  I  who  should  do  the  ridding." 

"Mon  Dieu!"  she  cried,  in  a  sudden  burst  of  petu- 


468       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

lance ;  "I  am  sick  to  death  of  all  this !  Is  there  no 
way  out  of  this  coil  that  is  strangling  us  both, 
Captain  Ireton?" 

"I  had  thought  to  make  a  way  three  days  ago; 
did  so  make  it,  but  you  kept  me  from  walking  in  it. 
Yet  that  way  is  still  open — if  you  will  but  drop  a 
word  in  my  Lord's  ear  when  you  go  below  stairs." 

"Oh,  yes — a  fine  thing;  the  wife  betray  the  hus- 
band!" This  with  another  lip-curl  of  scorn.  "I 
have  some  shreds  and  patches  of  pride  left,  sir, 
if  you  have  not." 

"Then  free  me  of  my  obligation  to  you  and  let 
me  do  it  myself.  I  am  well  enough  to  hang." 

"And  so  make  me  a  consenting  accomplice? 
Truly,  as  I  have  said  before,  you  have  a  most 
knightly  soul,  Captain  Ireton." 

I  closed  my  eyes  in  very  weariness. 

"You  are  hard  to  please,  my  lady." 

"You  have  not  to  try  to  please  me,  sir.  I  am 
going  away — to-night." 

"Going  away?"  I  echoed.  "Whither,  if  I  may 
ask?" 

"My  father  has  taken  protection  and  we  shall  go 
south  with  the  army.  As  Lord  Cornwallis  says, 
Mecklenburg  is  a  hornets'  nest  of  rebellion,  and  in 
an  hour  or  two  after  we  are  gone  you  will  be 
amongst  your  friends." 

She  made  to  leave  me  now,  but  I  would  not  let 
her  go  without  trying  the  last  blunt-pointed  arrow 
in  the  quiver  of  expedients. 

"Stay  a  moment,"  I  begged.    "You  are  leaving 


I   DRINK  A   DISH   OF   TEA 

th'e  untangling  of  this  coil  you  speak  of  to  a  chance 
bullet  on  a  battle-field.  Had  you  ever  thought  that 
the  Church  can  undo  what  the  Church  has  done?" 

Again  I  had  that  bitter  laugh  which  was  to  rankle 
afterward  in  memory. 

"You  are  a  most  desperate,  pertinacious  man, 
Captain  Ireton.  Failing  all  else,  you  would  even 
storm  Heaven  itself  to  gain  your  end,"  she  scoffed ; 
then,  at  the  very  pitch-point  of  the  scornful  out- 
burst she  put  her  face  in  her  hands  and  fell  a-sob- 
bing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

I  knew  not  what  to  say  or  do,  and  ended,  man- 
like, by  saying  and  doing  nothing.  And  so,  still 
crying  softly,  she  let  herself  out  at  the  wainscot 
door,  and  this  was  our  leave-taking. 


XLIV 

HOW    WE    CAME    TO    THE    BEGINNING    OF    THE    END 

It  was  on  the  third  day  of  December,  a  cheerless 
and  comfortless  day  at  the  close  of  the  most  in- 
clement autumn  I  ever  remember,  that  the  patriot 
Army  of  the  South  was  paraded  on  the  court-house 
common  in  Charlotte  to  listen  to  the  reading  of 
General  Gates's  final  order,  the  order  announcing 
the  arrival  of  Major-general  Greene  from  Wash- 
ington's headquarters  to  take  over  the  command  of 
the  field  forces  in  the  Carolinas. 

As  members  of  Colonel  William  Washington's 
light-horse,  Richard  Jennifer  and  I  were  both  pres- 
ent at  this  installation  of  the  new  field  commander ; 
and  it  was  here  that  we  both  had  our  first  sight 
of  Nathaniel  Greene,  the  "Hickory  Quaker." 

Now  the  historians,  as  is  their  wont,  have  pic- 
tured Greene  the  general  to  the  complete  effacement 
of  Greene  the  man,  and  it  is  in  my  mind  that  you 
may  like  to  see  the  new  commander  as  we  saw  him, 
making  his  first  inspection  of  Horatio  Gates's  poor 
"shadow  of  an  army"  on  that  dismal  December 
day  in  Charlotte. 

470 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END    471 

In  years  he  was  rising  forty ;  and  as  weight  goes 
he  was  a  heavy  man,  pressing  hard  upon  fifteen 
stone  with  the  knuckle  of  it  under  his  waistcoat. 
None  the  less,  though  his  great  bulk  made  him  sit 
his  horse  more  like  a  farmer  than  a  soldier,  he  had 
the  muscular  shoulders  and  arms  of  the  anchor- 
smiths,  to  which  trade  he  had  been  bred. 

The  hint  of  grossness  which  his  figure  gave  was 
not  borne  out  by  his  face.  Like  my  Lord  Cornwal- 
lis's,  his  eyes  were  womanish  large,  and  nose  and 
mouth  and  the  lift  of  the  brow  were  cast  in  a  mold 
to  match ;  yet  there  was  that  in  his  face  which  made 
it  the  mask  of  a  soul  thoughtful  and  serene;  and 
his  ruddy  complexion  and  fair  hair  gave  him  a  look 
of  openness  that  a  dark  man  is  like  to  miss. 

A  skilled  soldier,  with  a  good  promise  of  strenu- 
ous patience,  was  my  summing  up  of  him,  and 
Dick  saw  him  as  I  did,  though  with  a  more  prophetic 
eye. 

"He  will  make  his  mark,  Jack,  look  you;  not  in 
stubborn  in-fighting  at  the  barrier,  mayhap,  like 
Dan  Morgan,  nor  in  a  brilliant  dash,  like  our  col- 
onel, but  in  his  own  anchor-smith's  way — a  heat 
at  a  time,  and  a  blow  at  a  time,"  said  Jennifer; 
and  I  nodded. 

Stirrup  to  stirrup  with  the  new  commander  as 
he  passed  down  the  line  rode  Daniel  Morgan,  big, 
strong,  masterful,  handsome,  the  very  pick  and 
choice  of  leaders  for  his  rough  and  ready  riflemen. 
Like  most  of  his  men,  he  scorned  to  wear  a  uni- 
form, appearing  on  parade,  as  in  the  field,  in  a  neat- 


472       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

fitting  hunting-shirt  of  Indian-tanned  buckskin  with 
fringings  of  the  same — a  costume  that  set  off  his 
gigantic  figure  as  no  tailor-fine  coat  could  have  set 
it  off. 

When  he  pulled  his  horse  down  to  make  it  keep 
step  with  the  sedater  pacings  of  the  general's,  we 
could  hear  him  declaring,  with  an  oath,  that  his 
Eleventh  Virginia  alone  would  give  a  good  account 
of  all  the  Tories  between  the  Catawba  and  the 
Broad;  and  when  the  cavalcade  passed  the  rifle 
corps,  the  men  flung  their  hats  and  cheered  their 
leader  in  open  defiance  of  all  discipline. 

Ah  me !  they  tell  me  that  in  after  years  this  stout 
Daniel,  the  "Lion-bear  der,"  as  we  used  to  dub 
him,  became  a  doddering  old  man,  even  as  thy  old 
tale-teller  is  now;  that  he  put  off  all  his  roistering 
ways  and  might  be  found  any  Lord's  Day  shouting, 
not  curses,  as  of  yore,  but  psalm  tunes,  in  the  church 
whereof  he  was  a  pillar !  But  'twas  the  other  Dan- 
iel we  knew ;  the  bluff,  hearty  man  of  his  two  hands, 
who  could  pummel  the  best  boxer  in  his  own  regi- 
ment of  fisticuffers ;  who  could  out-curse,  out-buffet 
and  out-drink  the  hardiest  frontiersman  on  the  bor- 
der. 

Next  conspicuous  in  the  general's  suite  was  our 
colonel,  the  pink  of  light-horse  commanders,  with 
only  Harry  Lee  in  all  the  patriot  rank  and  file 
for  his  peer.  Tis  a  thousand  pities  that  William 
Washington,  "the  Marcellus  of  the  army,"  has  had 
to  suffer  the  eclipse  which  must  dim  the  luster  of 
all  who  walk  in  the  shadow  of  a  greater  of  the  same 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE   END    473 

name.  For  surely  there  never  was  a  finer  gentle- 
man, a  truer  friend,  a  nobler  patriot,  or,  according 
to  his  opportunities,  an  abler  officer  than  was  our 
beloved  colonel  of  the  light  dragoons. 

But  this  is  all  beside  the  mark,  you  will  say; 
and  you  will  be  chafing  restively  to  know  how  Dick 
and  I  had  come  together  in  this  troop  of  Colonel 
Washington's;  to  know  this  in  a  word  and  to  pass 
on  at  a  gallop  to  the  happenings  which  followed. 
Nay,  in  fancy's  eye  I  can  see  you  turning  the  page 
impatiently,  wondering  where  and  when  and  how 
this  tiresome  old  word-spinner  will  make  an  end. 

As  Margery  had  promised,  I  passed  out  of  my 
garret  prison  and  out  of  door  on  that  memorable 
evening  of  October  fourteenth  to  find  the  British 
gone  from  Charlotte  and  the  town  jubilant  with 
patriotic  joy. 

Having  nothing  to  detain  me,  and  being  bound  in 
honor  by  the  wish  of  my  dear  lady  not  to  follow 
and  give  myself  up  to  the  retreating  British  general, 
I  took  horse  and  rode  to  Salisbury,  where  I  had  the 
great  good  fortune  to  find  Dick,  already  breveted 
a  captain  in  Colonel  Washington's  command,  hur- 
rying his  troop  southward  to  whip  on  the  British 
withdrawal. 

Here  was  my  chance  to  drown  heartburnings  in 
an  onsweeping  tide  of  action,  and  then  and  there 
I  became  a  gentleman  volunteer  in  Dick's  company, 
asking  nothing  of  my  dear  lad  save  that  I  might 
ride  at  his  stirrup  and  share  his  hazards. 

Touching  the  hazards,  there  were  plenty  of  them 


474       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

in  the  seven  weeks  preceding  and  the  month  or 
more  following  our  new  general's  coming  to  take 
the  field,  as  you  may  know  in  detail  if  you  care 
to  follow  the  gallopings  of  Colonel  Washington's 
light-horse  troop  through  the  pages  of  the  histo- 
ries. But  these  have  little  or  naught  to  do  with  my 
tale,  and  I  pass  them  by  with  the  word  you  will  an- 
ticipate; that  in  all  the  dashes  and  forays  and 
brushes  with  the  enemy's  foraging  parties  and  out- 
posts, no  British  or  Tory  bullet  could  find  its  billet 
in  the  man  who  was  enamored  of  death. 

As  for  my  most  miserable  entanglement,  the  lapse 
of  time  made  it  neither  better  nor  worse,  nor 
greatly  different;  and  there  was  little  in  all  the 
skirmishings  and  gallopings  to  beat  off  the  bandog 
of  conscience,  or  that  other  and  still  fiercer  wild 
beast  of  starved  love,  that  gnawed  at  me  day  and 
night. 

Though  the  hope  for  some  easement  would  now 
and  then  lift  its  head,  I  was  reminded  daily  that 
hope  itself  was  hopeless ;  and  when  the  days  length- 
ened into  weeks  and  the  weeks  into  months,  bring- 
ing no  salving  for  the  double  hurt,  I  knew  that 
time  could  only  make  me  love  Margery  the  more; 
that  there  be  wounds  that  heal,  and  others  that 
open  afresh  at  each  remembrance  of  the  hand  that 
gave  them. 

One  grain  of  comfort  I  had  in  all  these  dreary 
weeks.  'Twas  whilst  we  were  quartering  in  Char- 
lotte, and  I  had  chanced  to  fall  upon  the  half-blood 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END    475 

Scipio  who  had  been  left  by  Gilbert  Stair  to  be  the 
caretaker  of  the  deserted  town  house. 

As  you  will  remember,  'twas  he  who  had  brought 
me  the  drugged  tea,  and  the  word  I  had  from  him 
made  me  hot  with  shame  for  the  cruel  imputation 
I  had  put  upon  my  dear  lady.  "Yas,  sah;  gib  um 
sleep-drop  to  make  buckra  massa  hoi'  still  twell  we 
could  tote  'im  froo  de  window  an'  'roun'  de  house 
an'  up  de  sta'r.  Sol j  ah  gyards  watch  um  mighty 
close  dat  night;  yes,  sar!"  And  thus  this  night- 
mare thought  of  mine  was  turned  into  another 
thorn  to  prick  me  on  the  self-accusing  side.  'Twas 
her  keen  woman's  wit,  and  no  cold-blooded  plan  to 
cheat  the  gallows,  that  made  her  give  me  the  sleep- 
ing draft.  Having  the  object-lesson  of  my  late 
surrender  before  her,  she  had  no  mind  to  let  me 
mar  the  rescue  by  waking  to  forbid  it.  And  when 
I  taxed  her,  'twas  natural  pride  that  drove  her  to  let 
me  go  on  thinking  the  unworthy  thought,  if  so  I 
would. 

I  did  penance  for  my  disloyalty  as  a  despairing 
lover  might,  and  I  do  think  it  made  me  tenderer  of 
Dick,  whose  bearing  to  me  through  all  these  tem- 
pestuous weeks  was  most  nobly  generous  and  for- 
giving. I  say  forgiving  because  I  was  often  but 
the  curstest  of  companions,  as  you  would  guess. 
For  when  I  was  not  bent  upon  finding  that  wicket 
gate  of  death  which  would  let  me  from  the  path 
of  these  two,  I  was  in  a  wicked  tertian  of  the  mind 
whose  chill  was  of  despair,  and  whose  fever  was  a 


476       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

hot  desire  to  look  once  more  into  the  eyes  of  my  dear 
lady  before  the  wicket  gate  should  open  for  me. 

'Twas  this  desire  that  finally  drew  me  to  her — 
the  desire  and  another  thing  which  shall  have  men- 
tion in  its  place.  The  new  year  was  now  come, 
and  the  Southern  Army,  as  yet  too  weak  to  cope 
with  the  enemy,  was  cut  into  two  wings  of  observa- 
tion ;  one  under  General  Greene  himself  at  Cheraw 
Hill,  the  other  and  lesser  in  the  knoll  forests  of  the 
Broad  with  Daniel  Morgan  for  its  chief;  both 
watching  hawk-like  the  down-sitting  of  my  Lord 
Cornwallis,  who  seemed  to  have  taken  root  at 
Winnsborough. 

As  you  will  know,  Washington's  light-horse  was 
with  Morgan;  and  we  ate,  drank  and  well-nigh 
slept  in  the  saddle.  But  for  all  our  scoutings  and 
outridings,  and  all  Dan  Morgan's  hearty  cursings  at 
the  ill  success  of  them,  we  could  come  by  no  sure 
inkling  of  Lord  Cornwallis's  designs.  As  I  have 
said,  the  British  commander  seemed  to  have  taken 
root  and  was  now  waiting  to  sprout  and  grow. 

It  was  at  this  lack-knowledge  crisis  that  I  vol- 
unteered to  go  to  the  British  camp  at  Winnsborough 
in  my  old  quality  of  spy ;  did  this  and  had  my  leave 
and  orders  before  Dick  learned  of  it. 

Left  to  my  own  devices,  I  fear  I  should  have 
slipped  away  without  telling  Jennifer.  But  as  so 
many  times  before,  fate  intervened  to  tirive  me 
where  I  had  not  meant  to  go.  On  the  morning  set 
for  my  departure  I  woke  to  find  a  letter  pinned  to 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END    477 

the  ground  beside  me  with  an  Indian  scalping-knife 
thrust  through  it. 

Dick  was  sitting  by  the  newly-kindled  fire,  nurs- 
ing his  knees  and  most  palpably  waiting  for  me  to 
wake  and  find  my  missive. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked,  eying  the  ominous  thing 
distrustfully. 

"  'Tis  a  letter,  as  you  see.  Uncanoola  left  it." 
Then,  most  surlily :  "  'Tis  from  Madge,  and  to  you. 
There  is  your  name  on  the  back  of  it." 

At  this  I  must  needs  read  the  letter,  with  the  lad 
looking  on  as  if  he  would  eat  me.  'Twas  dated 
at  Winnsborough,  and  was  brief  and  to  the  point. 

Monsieur: 

"When  last  we  met  you  said  the  Church  might 
undo  what  the  Church  had  done.  I  have  spoken  to 
the  good  Pcre  Matthieu,  and  he  has  consented  to 
write  to  the  Holy  Father  at  Rome.  But  it  is  neces- 
sary that  he  should  have  your  declaration.  Since 
the  matter  is  of  your  own  seeking,  mayhap  you  can 
devise  a  way  to  communicate  with  Pcre  Matthieu, 
who  is  at  present  zvith  us  under  our  borrozved  roof 
here. 

That  was  all,  and  it  was  signed  only  with  her  in- 
itial. I  read  it  through  twice  and  then  again  to  gain 
time.  For  Dick  was  waiting. 

"  'Tis  a  mere  formal  matter  of  business,"  said  I, 
when  I  could  put  him  off  no  longer. 


478       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"Business  ?"  he  queried,  the  red  light  of  suspicion 
coming  and  going  in  his  eye.  "What  business  can 
you  have  with  Mistress  Madge  Stair,  pray?" 

"  'Tis  about — it  touches  the  title  to  Appleby  Hun- 
dred," said  I,  equivocating  as  clumsily  as  a  school- 
boy caught  in  a  fault.  "Of  course  you  know  that  the 
confiscation  act  of  the  North  Carolina  Congress  re- 
established my  right  and  title  to  the  estate?" 

"No,"  said  he;  "you  never  told  me."  Then: 
"She  writes  you  about  this?" 

"About  a  matter  touching  it,  as  I  say." 

"As  you  did  not  say,"  he  growled;  after  which 
a  silence  came  and  sat  between  us,  I  holding  the  open 
letter  in  my  hand  and  he  staring  gloomily  at  the 
back  of  it. 

When  the  silence  grew  portentous  I  told  him  of 
my  design  to  go  a-spying.  He  looked  me  in  the  eye 
and  his  smile  was  not  pleasant  to  see. 

"You  are  lying  most  clumsily,  Jack;  or  at  best 
you  are  telling  me  but  half  the  truth.  You  are 
going  to  see  Mistress  Margery." 

"That  is  altogether  as  it  may  happen,"  I  retorted, 
striving  hard  to  keep  down  the  flame  of  insensate 
rivalry  which  his  accusings  always  kindled  in  me. 

"It  is  not.  Winnsborough  is  neither  London  nor 
yet  Philadelphia,  that  you  may  miss  her  in  the 
crowd.  And  you  do  not  mean  to  miss  her." 

"Well?  And  if  I  do  chance  to  see  her — what 
then?" 

"Don't  mad  me,  Jack.  You  should  know  by  this 
what  a  fool  she  has  made  of  me." 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   END.    479 

"  'Tis  your  own  folly,"  I  rejoined  hotly.  "You 
should  blame  neither  the  lady  nor  the  man  to  whom 
she  has  given  nothing  save — " 

"Save  what?''  he  broke  in  savagely. 

I  recoiled  on  the  brink  as  I  had  so  many  times  be- 
fore. The  months  of  waiting  for  the  death  I  craved 
had  hardened  me. 

"Save  a  thing  you  would  value  lightly  enough 
without  her  love.  Let  us  have  done  with  this 
bickering;  find  the  colonel  and  ask  his  leave  to  go 
with  me,  if  you  like.  Then  you  may  do  the  love- 
making  whilst  I  do  the  spying." 

"No,"  said  he ;  "not  while  you  stand  it  upon  such 
a  leg  as  that." 

I  reached  across  and  gripped  his  hand  and  wrung 
it.  "Shall  we  never  have  the  better  of  these  sense- 
less vaporings  ?"  I  cried.  '  'Tis  as  you  say ;  I  can 
neither  live  sane  nor  die  mad  without  another  sight 
of  her,  Dick,  and  that  is  the  plain  truth.  And  yet, 
mark  me,  this  next  seeing  of  her  will  surely  set  a 
thing  in  train  that  will  make  her  yours  and  not  mine. 
Get  your  leave  and  come  with  me  on  your  own 
terms.  Mayhap  she  will  show  you  how  little  she 
cares  for  me,  and  how  much  she  cares  for  you." 

So  this  is  how  it  came  about  that  we  two,  garbed 
as  decent  planters  and  mounted  upon  the  sleekest 
cobs  the  regiment  afforded,  took  the  road  for  Winns- 
borough  together  on  a  certain  summer-fine  morning 
in  January  in  the  year  of  battles,  seventeen  hun- 
dred and  eighty-one. 


XLV 

IN  WHICH   WE  FIND  WHAT  WE   NEVER  SOUGHT 

'Tis  fifty  miles  as  a  bird  would  fly  it  from  tKe 
grazing  uplands  of  the  Broad  known  as  the  Cowpens 
to  the  lower  plantation  region  lying  between  that 
stream  and  the  farther  Catawba  or  Wateree;  and 
Richard  Jennifer  and  I  ambled  the  distance  leisurely, 
as  befitted  our  mission  and  disguise,  cutting  the 
journey  evenly  in  half  for  the  first  night's  lodging, 
which  we  had  at  the  house  of  one  Philbrick — as 
hot  a  Tory  as  we  pretended  to  be. 

From  our  host  of  the  night  we  learned  that  within 
two  days  the  British  outposts  on  the  Wateree  and 
the  Broad  had  been  advanced;  and  there  were  ru- 
mors in  the  air  that  Lord  Cornwallis,  who  was 
hourly  expecting  General  Leslie  with  two  thousand 
of  Sir  Henry  Clinton's  men  from  New  York,  would 
presently  move  on  to  the  long-deferred  conquest  of 
North  Carolina. 

"Has  Cornwallis  lost  his  wits?"  Dick  would  say, 

when  we  were  a-jog  on  the  southward  road  again. 

"  'Tis  a  braver  lordling  than  I  gave  him  credit  for 

being — if  he  will  put  his  head  in  a  trap  that  will 

480 


WHAT   WE   NEVER   SOUGHT       481 

close  behind  him  and  cut  him  off  from  his  line  and 
base." 

I  laughed.  "You  may  wager  Jennifer  House 
against  an  acre  of  the  Cowpens  that  Lord  Charles 
will  do  no  such  unsoldierly  thing.  If  this  rumor  be 
true,  we  have  heard  only  the  half  of  it." 

"And  the  other  half  will  be?—" 

"That  my  Lord  Cornwallis  will  do  his  prettiest 
to  pull  the  teeth  of  one  or  the  other  of  the  trap- 
jaws  before  he  trusts  himself  within  them." 

Jennifer  was  silent  for  an  ambling  minute  or 
two.  Then  he  said :  "  'Twill  be  our  teeth  he'll  try 
to  pull,  then.  The  Broad  is  nearer  than  the  Pedee ; 
and  ours  is  the  weaker  of  the  two  jaws." 

"Right  you  are,"  said  I.  "And  now  we  know 
what  we  have  to  discover." 

"Anan  ?"  he  queried. 

"We  must  learn  by  hook  or  crook  who  is  to  be 
sent  against  Dan  Morgan,  and  when." 

"That  should  be  easy — if  the  use  of  it  afterward 
be  not  choked  out  of  us  at  a  rope's  end." 

"We  can  divide  the  rope's-end  chance  of  failure 
by  two.  We  may  work  together  as  the  opportunity 
offers,  but  once  within  the  lines  we  must  pass  as 
strangers  to  each  other,  or  at  most  as  chance  ac- 
quaintances of  the  road." 

"Good,"  said  he ;  and  then  his  jaw  dropped.  "But 
what  if  one  of  us  be  taken  ?  Never  ask  me  to  stand 
by  stranger-wise  and  see  you  hanged,  Jack!" 

"I  shall  both  ask  it  and  promise  to  do  the  same  by 


482       THE   MASTER   OF.  APPLEBY, 

you.  Your  hand  on  it  before  we  go  a  step  farther, 
if  you  please." 

"  'Tis  out  of  all  reason,"  he  demurred. 

"  'Tis  the  only  reasonable  course.  Bethink  you, 
this  is  no  knight-errant  venture ;  we  are  two  of  Dan 
Morgan's  soldiers  bent  upon  doing  a  thing  most 
needful  for  the  welfare  of  the  country  and  its  cause. 
'Tis  a  duty  higher  than  any  obligation  friendship 
lays  on  Richard  Jennifer  or  John  Ireton." 

At  this  he  yielded  the  point,  though  I  could  see 
that  the  proposal  jumped  little  with  the  promptings 
of  his  generous  heart. 

"  'Tis  a  scurvy  trap  you  have  set  for  me,"  he 
grumbled.  "The  risk  is  chiefly  yours,  and  you  know 
it.  You  are  known  to  Lord  Cornwallis,  and  to  God 
knows  how  many  more  of  them,  and  belike — " 

The  interruption  came  in  the  shape  of  a  troop 
of  redcoat  horsemen  galloping  in  the  road  to  meet 
us,  and  we  were  shortly  surrounded  and  put  sharply 
to  the  question.  We  answered  each  for  himself. 
Dick  was  a  loyalist  from  Yorkville  way,  eager  to  be 
set  in  arms  against  the  bandit  Daniel  Morgan.  I 
was  a  refugee  from  "hornets'-nest"  Mecklenburg, 
also  bent  upon  revenge. 

The  troop  officer  passed  us  on,  something  doubt- 
ing, as  I  suspected.  But  we  were  riding  in  the 
right  direction,  and  he  was  unwilling  to  clog  him- 
self with  a  pair  of  plain  country  gentlemen  held  in 
leash  as  prisoners. 

A  few  miles  farther  down  the  road  the  same  brace 


WHAT   WE   NEVER   SOUGHT       483 

of  lies  got  us  safely  through  the  loosely  drawn  ve- 
dette line,  and  by  evening  we  were  in  sight  of  our 
goal. 

Viewing  it  from  the  rising  ground  of  approach, 
Winnsborough  appeared  less  as  a  town  than  as  a 
partly  fortified  camp.  The  few  houses  of  the  vil- 
lage were  lost  in  the  field  of  tents,  huts  and  troop 
shelters,  and  measuring  by  the  spread  of  these,  it 
would  seem  that  my  Lord  Cornwallis's  army  had 
been  considerably  augmented  since  I  had  last  seen 
it  in  Charlotte.  I  spoke  of  this,  but  Dick  was  intent 
upon  the  business  of  the  moment. 

"Aye ;  there  are  enough  of  them,  God  knows.  But 
tell  me,  Jack — I'm  new  to  this  game — what's  to  do 
first  when  we  are  among  them  ?" 

I  laughed  at  him.  "You  are  my  troop  comman- 
der, Captain  Jennifer.  'Tis  for  you  to  make  the 
dispositions." 

"Have  your  joke  and  be  hanged  to  you.  TKere 
are  no  captains  here." 

"If  you  leave  it  to  me,  we  shall  ride  boldly  to  tKe 
tavern,  put  up  as  travelers,  and  listen  to  the  gos- 
sips, each  for  himself,"  I  replied;  and  this  is  what 
we  did. 

The  village  tavern,  servilely  bearing  the  king's 
arms  thinly  painted  over  the  palmetto  tree  of  South 
Carolina  on  its  swinging  sign-board,  was  a  miserable 
doggery,  full  to  overflowing  with  a  riffraff  of 
carousing  soldiery.  Separating  by  mutual  consent 
in  the  public  tap-room,  Richard  and  I  presently 


484       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

drifted  together  again  at  a  small  table  in  a  corner, 
with  a  black  boy  in  attendance  to  set  before  us  such 
poor  entertainment  as  the  hostelry  afforded. 

"Well,  what  luck?"  asked  Dick,  mumbling  it  be- 
hind his  hand,  though  he  might  safely  have  shouted 
it  aloud  in  the  din  and  clamor  of  the  place. 

I  shook  my  head.  "Nothing  as  yet,  save  that 
I  overheard  a  tipsy  corporal  telling  his  tipsier  ser- 
geant that  the  officers  would  be  holding  a  revel 
to-night  at  a  Tory  manor  house  situate  somewhere 
beyond  the  camp  confines  to  the  northward;  the 
house  of  one  Master  Marmaduke  Harndon,  if  I 
heard  the  name  aright."  Then  I  added:  "This 
rabble  is  too  drunken  to  serve  our  purpose.  "Tis 
only  the  common  soldiery,  and  we  shall  learn  noth- 
ing here." 

"There  was  at  least  one  who  was  not  a  ranker," 
said  Dick,  and  there  was  something  akin  to  awe 
in  his  voice.  Then  he  leaned  across  the  table  to 
whisper.  "Jack,  I've  fair  had  a  fright !" 

I  smiled.  Fear,  of  God,  man  or  the  devil,  was  not 
one  of  the  lad's  weaknesses. 

"You  may  grin  as  you  please,"  he  went  on ;  "but 
answer  me  this ;  do  the  dead  come  back  to  life  ?" 

"Not  this  side  of  the  resurrection  reveille,  if  we 
may  believe  the  dominies." 

"Then  I  have  seen  a  ghost — a  most  horrible 
mask  of  a  man  we  both  know  to  our  cost." 

"Name  him  and  I  will  tell  you  whether  he  be  a 
ghost  or  no." 

"  'Tis  the  ghost  of  Frank  Falconnet ;  or  else  it 


WHAT   WE   NEVER   SOUGHT       485 

is  what  of  the  man  himself  the  fire  hath  left,"  said 
Dick,  and  I  marked  his  shiver  at  the  word. 

"No!"  said  I. 

"I  tell  you  yes." 

I  sprang  up,  but  the  lad  reached  across  the  table 
and  smote  me  back  into  the  chair. 

"Softly,  old  firebrand;  'twas  you  who  said  the 
public  matter  must  take  precedence  of  the  private. 
Moreover,  if  this  be  Francis  Falconnet  whom  I  have 
seen,  your  sweetest  revenge  on  him  will  be  to  let 
him  live — as  he  is." 

"I  will  kill  him  as  I  would  a  wild  beast,"  I  raged, 
thinking  of  that  midnight  scene  in  the  great  forest 
when  my  sweet  lady  had  gone  on  her  knees  to  this 
fiend  in  human  guise.  "And  so  should  you,"  I 
added,  "if  you  care  aught  for  the  honor  of  the 
woman  who  loves  you." 

But  now  it  was  this  hot-headed  Richard  I  have 
drawn  for  you  who  saw  farthest  and  clearest. 

"All  in  good  time,"  he  said,  coolly.  "At  this 
present  we  have  Dan  Morgan's  fish  to  fry,  and  sit- 
ting here  saucing  this  devil's  mess  of  a  supper  with 
thoughts  of  private  revenge  will  never  fry  it.  Set 
your  wits  at  work,  Falconnet 's  ghost  has  put  mine 
hopelessly  out  of  gear.  Ye  gods !  but  'twas  a  most 
fearsome  thing  to  look  at !" 

I  did  not  answer  him  at  once,  and  whilst  I  plied 
knife  and  fork  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  I  would 
think  upon  what  he  had  discovered.  This  reap- 
pearance of  Francis  Falconnet  was  not  to  be  passed 
over  lightly.  What  would  he  do,  or  seek  to  do? 


486       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY. 

Nay,  what  devilish  thing  was  it  he  might  not  do? 
If  the  fire  had  burned  his  passion  out,  it  had  doubt- 
less kindled  a  feller  blaze  of  revenge.  And  if  his 
thirst  was  for  vengeance,  how  could  he  quench  it 
in  a  deeper  draft  than  by  harrying  the  woman 
we  both  loved  ?  'Twas  only  by  a  mighty  effort  that 
I  could  drag  myself  back  to  Dick's  urging  and  the 
needs  of  the  hour. 

"To  have  some  chance  of  hearing  gossip  to  our 
purpose,  we  must  make  shift  to  gain  admittance  to 
this  officers'  rout  at  the  manor  house,"  I  said. 

"The  devil !"  quoth  Dick,  "I  venture  that's  easier 
said  than  done — for  two  plain  country  gentlemen." 

"Never  fear;  there  will  be  others  there  lacking 
fine  clothes,  and  so  the  throng  be  great  enough,  we 
may  pass  current  in  it." 

Richard  pushed  his  plate  back  with  a  grimace 
of  disgust. 

"Let  us  be  at  it,  then.  Another  grapple  with  this 
pig-bait  will  finish  me  outright." 

A  half-hour  later  we  were  tethering  our  cobs  at 
the  already  crowded  hitching-rail  in  front  of  a 
goodly  mansion  some  mile  or  more  beyond  the  camp 
limits  on  the  northward  road;  a  rambling  manor 
house  to  the  full  as  large  as  Appleby  Hundred,  with 
a  shaven  la«wn  in  front,  and  within,  lights  and  music 
and  sounds  of  revelry. 

"By  the  Lord  Harry!  but  this  Master  Harndon 
would  seem  to  be  a  man  of  substance,"  says  Dick. 
And  then:  "Can  you  pick  out  a  good  horse  in  the 
dark,  Jack?  It  may  come  to  a  race  for  our  necks, 


WHAT  WE   NEVER   SOUGHT       487 

by  and  by,  and  these  cobs  of  ours  are  too  broad- 
backed  for  speed." 

I  said  I  could,  and  so  we  went  deeper  into  the 
cavalcade  at  the  hitch-rail  and  marked  out  two  clean- 
limbed chargers,  a  gray  and  a  sorrel ;  this  before  we 
gave  the  final  touches  to  our  plan  of  action  and 
passed  up  the  broad  avenue  to  the  manor  house. 


XLVI 

HOW    OUR    PIECE    MISSED   FIRE    AT    HARNDON    ACRES 

For  a  doorkeeper  some  one  or  another  of  the 
officer  guests  had  set  a  sergeant  on  guard;  but 
though  the  night  was  yet  young  the  man  passed  us 
into  the  great  entrance  hall  with  a  hiccough  and  a 
wink  that  spoke  thus  early  of  an  open  house  and 
freely  flowing  good  cheer. 

As  we  had  hoped  to  find  it,  this  rout  at  Master 
Harndon's  was  a  stifling  jam,  and  a  good  half  of 
the  guests  were  in  civilian  plain  clothes,  neither 
Paris  nor  London  having  as  yet  reached  so  far  into 
the  Carolina  plantations  to  proscribe  homespun  and 
to  prescribe  the  gay  toggeries  of  the  courts.  This 
for  the  men,  I  hasten  to  add ;  for  then,  as  now,  our 
American  dames  and  maids  would  put  a  year's 
cropping  of  a  plantation  on  their  backs,  thinking 
nothing  of  it ;  and  there  was  no  lack  of  shimmering 
silks  and  stiff  brocades,  of  high-piled  coiffures,  paint, 
patches  and  powder  at  this  merrymaking  at  Harn- 
don  Acres. 

Lacking  an  introducer,  and  wanting,  moreover, 
nothing  save  the  leave  to  have  standing-room  in  the 
488 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED   FIRE 

throng  as  lookers-on,  we  gave  Mr.  Marmaduke 
Harndon,  a  sleek,  rotund  little  gentleman,  smirking 
and  bowing  and  tapping  the  lid  of  his  silver  snuff- 
box, a  wide  berth ;  and  with  an  agreement  to  meet 
later  for  the  comparing  of  notes,  Jennifer  and  I 
went  apart  at  the  door  of  the  ball-room,  each  to  lose 
himself  in  the  assembled  company  as  an  otter  slips 
into  a  pool,  namely,  without  ruffling  it. 

'Twas  easily  done.  Winnsborough  had  by  this  time 
become  a  refuge  camp  for  all  the  loyalists  in  the  re- 
gion roundabout,  and  there  were  many  in  the  present 
company  who  were  strangers  one  to  another,  uneasy, 
shifting  figures  in  the  gay  throng,  beneath  the  notice 
alike  of  haughty  dames  and  prinking  dandy  officers. 
Beneath  the  notice,  I  say ;  yet  I  would  qualify  this, 
for  more  than  one  of  the  epauletted  macaronis  trod 
upon  my  toes  or  bustled  me  rudely  in  the  crush  till 
I  trembled,  not  for  my  own  self-control,  but  for 
Richard's,  making  sure  that  the  lad  was  having 
no  more  gentlemanly  welcome  than  I. 

'Twas  with  some  notion  of  finding  ampler  room 
for  my  feet  that  I  edged  away  through  the  fring- 
ing wall-crowd  in  the  dancing-room  toward  a  cur- 
tained archway  at  the  back.  As  yet  I  had  over- 
heard naught  save  the  silly  persiflage  of  the  belles 
and  beaux — a  word  here  and  another  there — and  I 
was  beginning  to  fear  that  this  was  as  poor  a  place 
to  look  for  information  as  was  the  pothouse,  when 
a  thing  befell  to  set  me  a-quiver  with  all  the  thrill- 
ings  the  human  heart-strings  can  thrum  to  in  one 
and  the  same  instant  of  time. 


490       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

I  had  shouldered  my  way  out  of  the  ball-room 
medley  and  into  the  less  crowded  room  at  the  back. 
This  proved  to  be  a  rear  withdrawing-room  serving 
for  the  nonce  as  a  refectory.  There  were  little 
groups  and  knots  of  chatterers  standing  about; 
fair  maids,  each  with  her  ring  of  redcoated  court- 
iers, laughing  and  jesting  or  picking  daintily  at 
the  viands  on  the  great  oaken  table  in  the  midst. 

Rounding  the  promontory  of  the  table's-end  to 
come  to  anchor  in  some  quiet  eddy  where  I  could 
listen  unnoticed  for  the  word  I  was  thirsting  for, 
I  must  needs  entangle  the  button  of  my  coat-cuff 
in  the  delicate  lace  of  a  lady's  sleeve  in  passing. 

The  wearer  of  the  sleeve  had  her  back  to  me,  and 
I  saw  the  white  shoulders  go  up  in  a  little  shrug 
of  petulance  whilst  I  sought  to  disentangle  the 
button.  Then  she  turned  to  face  me  and  the  words 
of  apology  froze  on  my  lips.  'Twas  Mistress  Mar- 
gery, standing  at  ease  with — good  heavens!  with 
Richard  Jennifer  and  Colonel  Banastre  Tarleton  for 
her  company! 

Here  was  a  halter,  with  a  double  snaffle  at  the 
end  of  it,  was  the  thought  that  flashed  upon  me; 
and  I  was  gathering  my  wits  to  brazen  it  out  in 
some  sucH  manner  as  to  leave  Jennifer  unattainted, 
when  my  lady  give  a  little  start  and  a  shriek. 

"La,  Mr.  Septimus;  how  you  startled  me!"  she 
cried.  Then,  without  a  tremor  of  the  lip  or  a 
pause  for  breath-taking,  she  presented  me:  "Colo- 
nel Tarleton;  Mr.  Septimus  Ireton,  of  Iretondene 


OUR    PIECE    MISSED    FIRE          491 

in  Virginia."  And  next  to  Dick:  "Air.  Richard; 
my  very  good  friend,  Mr.  Ireton." 

'Twas  done  so  cleverly  and  with  such  an  air  that 
even  Dick,  who  had  known  her  from  childhood,  was 
struck  dumb  with  admiration,  as  his  face  sufficiently 
advertised.  And,  indeed,  I  had  much  ado  to  play 
my  own  part  with  any  decent  self-possession,  though 
I  did  make  shift  to  bow  stiffly,  and  to  say :  "I  see  I 
should  have  brought  the  Iretondene  title  deeds  with 
me  to  make  you  sure  that  I  am  not  my  rebel  cousin 
John,  Mistress  Margery.  Your  servant,  Colonel 
Tarleton ;  and  yours,  Mr.  Richard." 

Dick's  bow  was  an  elaborate  hiding  of  his  tell- 
tale face ;  but  the  colonel's  was  the  slightest  of  nods, 
and  I  could  feel  the  sloe-black  eyes  of  him  boring 
into  my  very  soul. 

Had  my  lady  given  him  but  a  moment's  time  I 
make  no  doubt  he  would  have  come  instantly  at  the 
truth  and  the  little  farce  would  have  been  turned 
into  a  tragedy  on  the  spot.  But  she  gave  him  no 
time.  The  spinet  in  the  ball-room  alcove  was  tink- 
ling out  the  overture  to  a  minuet,  and  she  laid  the 
tips  of  her  dainty  fingers  on  the  colonel's  arm. 

"This  will  be  ours  to  walk  through,  will  it  not, 
Colonel  Tarleton?"  she  said,  playing  the  sprightly 
minx  to  the  very  climax  of  perfection.  Then  she 
dipped  us  a  curtsy.  "Au  revoir,  gentlemen.  'Tis  a 
thousand  pities  you  had  not  joined  sooner  and  so 
had  the  red  coat  and  small-sword  to  grace  you 
here." 


492       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

When  they  were  gone,  Dick  laughed  sardonically. 

"Saw  you  ever  such  a  cool-blood  little  jade  in 
all  your  life?  'Twas  with  me  as  it  was  with  you; 
I,  too,  stumbled  upon  them,  and  the  colonel  bustled 
me  and  set  his  heel  on  my  foot.  I  daresay  I  should 
have  had  myself  in  irons  in  another  moment  but 
for  Madge.  She  slipped  in  between  and  introduced 
us  as  sweetly  as  you  please." 

"Nevertheless,"  said  It  "the  colonel  recognized 
us  both." 

"No!    Think  you  so?" 

"  'Tis  certain  enough  to  play  upon.  What  we 
do  now  must  be  done  quickly  or  not  at  all.  What 
have  you  overheard?" 

He  swore  softly.  "Never  a  cursed  word ;  less 
than  nothing  of  any  interest  to  Dan  Morgan." 

"We  must  try  again.  'Twill  surely  be  talked  of 
here  if  the  army  is  about  to  move.  Do  you  take  a 
turn  in  the  anteroom  and  meet  me  in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  at  the  outer  door." 

At  the  word,  Dick  promptly  lost  himself  in  the 
throng  whilst  I  made  a  slow  circuit  of  the  refresh- 
ment table.  Once  I  thought  I  had  the  clue  when  a 
girl  hanging  on  the  arm  of  an  infantry  lieutenant 
said :  "Will  it  be  true  that  you  will  presently  go  out 
to  hunt  the  rebels  down,  Mr.  Thornicroft  ?"  But  the 
prudent  lieutenant  smiled  and  put  her  off  cleverly, 
leaving  his  fair  questioner — and  me — none  the 
wiser. 

I  went  on,  drifting  aimlessly  from  group  to  group 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED   FIRE         ^93 

and  dallying  of  set  purpose.  If  I  had  read  Colonel 
Tarleton's  glance  aright,  the  moments  were  growing 
diamond-precious ;  but  as  yet  neither  half  of  my  er- 
rand was  done.  Come  what  might,  I  must  see  Mar- 
gery again  and  have  her  tell  me  where  and  how  to 
find  the  priest ;  and  'twas  borne  in  upon  me  that  she 
would  come  back  to  seek  me  as  soon  as  she  could  be 
free  of  her  partner  in  the  dance. 

The  forecast  as  to  my  lady  had  its  fulfilment 
while  yet  the  spinetter  was  striking  out  the  final 
chords  of  the  minuet.  A  lady  dropped  her  ker- 
chief, and  I  was  before  her  swain  in  stooping  to 
pick  it  up.  As  I  bowed  low  in  returning  the  bit  of 
lace  to  its  owner,  a  voice  that  I  had  learned  to  know 
and  love  whispered  in  my  ear. 

"Make  your  way  to  the  clock  landing  of  the  stair ; 
I  must  have  speech  with  you,"  it  said;  and  for  a 
wonder  I  was  cool  enough  to  obey  writh  no  more 
than  a  sidelong  glance  at  my  lady  passing  on  the 
arm  of  another  epauletted  dangler. 

She  was  before  me  at  the  meeting  place,  and  there 
was  no  laughing  welcome  in  the  deep-welled  eyes. 
Instead,  they  flashed  me  a  look  that  made  me  wince. 

"What  folly  is  this,  sir?"  she  demanded.  "Will 
you  never  have  done  taking  my  honor  and  your  own 
life  into  your  reckless  hands  ?" 

I  bowed  my  head  to  the  storm.  With  the  dagger 
of  my  miserable  errand  sticking  in  my  heart  there 
was  no  fight  in  me. 

"I  am  but  come  to  do  your  bidding,"  I  said, 


494       THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

slowly,  for  the  words  cost  me  sorely  in  the  coin  of 
anguish.  "I  had  your  letter,  and  if  you  will  say 
how  I  may  find  Father  Matthieu — " 
,  She  broke  me  in  the  midst.  "Mon  Dieu!"  she 
cried.  "Could  I  guess  that  you  would  come  here, 
into  the  very  noose  of  the  gallows?  Oh,  how  you 
do  heap  scorn  on  scorn  upon  me!  Once  you  made 
me  give  silent  consent  to  a  falsehood  you  told; 
twice,  nay,  thrice,  you  have  made  me  disloyal  to 
the  king;  and  now  you  come  again  to  make  me 
look  the  world  in  the  face  and  tell  a  smiling  lie  to 
shield  you!  O  Holy  Mother,  pity  me!"  And  with 
this  she  put  her  face  in  her  hands  and  began  to  sob. 

Now  we  were  only  measurably  isolated  on  the 
stair,  and  some  sense  of  the  hazard  we  took — a  haz- 
ard involving  her  as  well  as  Richard  and  myself — 
steadied  me  with  a  sudden  shock. 

"Control  yourself,"  I  whispered.  "What  is  done, 
is  done;  and  the  misery  is  not  all  yours  to  suffer. 
Tell  me  how  I  may  find  the  priest,  and  I  will  do  my 
errand  and  begone." 

"You  can  not  stay  to  find  him  now — you  must 
not,"  she  insisted,  coming  out  of  the  fit  of  despair 
with  a  rebound.  "He  is  in  the  town — indeed,  I 
know  not  where  he  is  just  now.  Can  you  not  en- 
dure it  a  little  longer,  Captain  Ireton?" 

"No,"  said  I,  sullenly.  "I  have  been  living  a  lie 
all  these  months  to  the  friend  I  love  best,  and  I  will 
not  do  it  more." 

Could  I  be  mistaken?  Surely  there  was  a  flash 
not  of  anger  in  the  eyes  that  were  lifted  to  mine, 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED    FIRE          495 

and  a  tremulous  note  of  eagerness  in  the  voice  that 
said:  "Then  Dick  does  not  know? — you  have  not 
told  him?" 

"No ;  I  have  told  no  one." 

"Poor  Dick!"  she  said  softly.  "I  thought  he 
knew,  and  I — " 

She  paused,  and  in  the  pause  it  flashed  upon  me 
how  she  had  wronged  my  dear  lad;  how  she  had 
thought  he  would  make  brazen  love  to  her  knowing 
she  was  the  wife  of  another.  I  thanked  God  in  my 
heart  that  I  had  been  able  to  right  him  thus  far. 

After  a  time  she  said:  "Why  did  you  make  me 
marry  you,  Monsieur  John  ?  Oh,  I  have  racked  my 
brain  so  for  the  answer  to  that  question.  I  know 
you  said  it  was  to  save  my  honor.  But  surely  we 
have  paid  a  heavier  penalty  than  any  that  could  have 
been  laid  upon  me  had  you  left  me  as  I  was." 

"I  was  but  a  short-sighted  fool,  and  no  prophet," 
I  rejoined,  striving  hard  to  keep  the  bitterness  of 
soul  out  of  my  words.  "At  the  moment  it  seemed 
the  only  way  out  of  the  pit  of  doubt  into  which  my 
word  to  Colonel  Tarleton  had  plunged  you.  But 
there  was  another  motive.  You  saw  the  paper  I 
signed  that  night,  with  Lieutenant  Tybee  and  your 
father's  factor  for  the  witnesses  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  know  what  it  was  ?" 

"No." 

'  'Twas  the  last  will  and  testament  of  one  John 
Ireton,  gentleman,  in  which  he  bequeathed  to  Mar- 
gery, his  wife,  his  estate  of  Appleby  Hundred." 


496       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY, 

"Appleby  Hundred?"  she  echoed.  "But  my 
father—" 

"Your  father  holds  but  a  confiscator's  title,  and  it, 
with  many  others,  has  been  voided  by  the  Congress 
of  North  Carolina.  Richard  Jennifer  is  my  dear 
friend,  and  you — " 

"I  begin  to  understand — a  little,"  she  said,  and 
now  her  voice  was  low  and  she  would  not  look  at 
me.  Then,  in  the  same  low  tone :  "But  now—- 
now you  would  be  free  again  ?" 

"How  can  you  ask?  As  matters  stand,  I  have 
marred  your  life  and  Dick's  most  hopelessly.  Do 
you  wonder  that  I  have  been  reckless  of  the  hang- 
man? that  I  care  no  jot  for  my  interfering  life  at 
this  moment,  save  as  the  taking  of  it  may  involve 
you  and  Richard?" 

"No,  surely,"  she  said,  still  speaking  softly.  And 
now  she  gave  me  her  eyes  to  look  into,  and  the  hard- 
ness was  all  melted  out  of  them.  "Did  you  come 
here,  under  the  shadow  of  the  gallows,  to  tell  me 
this,  Monsieur  John?" 

"There  shall  be  no  more  half-confidences  be- 
tween us,  dear  lady.  I  had  my  leave  of  General 
Morgan  on  the  score  of  our  need  for  better  informa- 
tion of  Lord  Cornwallis's  designs ;  but  I  should  have 
come  in  any  case — wanting  the  leave,  my  commis- 
sion as  a  spy,  or  any  other  excuse." 

"To  tell  me  this?" 

"To  do  the  bidding  of  your  letter,  and  to  say  that 
whilst  I  live  I  shall  be  shamed  for  the  bitter  words 
I  gave  you  when  I  was  sick." 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED   FIRE         497 

"I  mind  them  not;  I  had  forgotten  them,"  she 
said. 

"But  I  have  not  forgotten,  nor  ever  shall.  Will 
you  say  you  forgive  me,  Margery  ?" 

"For  thinking  I  had  poisoned  you  ?  How  do  you 
know  I  did  not  ?" 

"I  have  seen  Scipio.  Will  you  shrive  me  for  that 
disloyalty,  dear  lady  ?" 

"Did  I  not  say  I  had  forgotten  it  ?" 

"Thank  you,"  I  said,  meaning  it  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart.  "Now  one  thing  more,  and  you  shall 
send  me  to  Father  Matthieu.  Tis  a  shameful  thing 
to  speak  of,  but  the  thought  of  it  rankles  and  will 
rankle  till  I  have  begged  you  to  add  it  to  the  things 
forgotten.  That  morning  in  your  dressing-room — " 

She  put  up  her  hands  as  if  she  would  push  the 
words  back. 

"Spare  me,  sir,"  she  begged.  "There  are  some 
things  that  must  always  be  unspeakable  between 
us,  and  that  is  one  of  them.  But  if  it  will  help  you 
to  know — that  I  know — how — how  you  came 
there—" 

She  was  flushing  most  painfully,  and  I  was  scarce 
more  at  ease.  But  having  gone  thus  far,  I  must 
needs  let  the  thought  consequent  slip  into  words. 

"Your  father's  motives  have  ever  been  misunder- 
standable  to  me.  What  could  he  hope  to  gain  by 
such  a  thing?" 

I  had  no  sooner  said  it  than  I  could  have  bitten 
my  masterless  tongue.  For  in  the  very  voicing  of 
the  wonder  I  saw,  or  thought  I  saw,  Gilbert  Stair's 


498       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBYi 

purpose.  Since  I  had  not  made  good  my  promise 
to  die  and  leave  the  estate  to  Margery,  he  would  at 
least  make  sure  of  his  daughter's  dowry  in  it  by 
putting  it  beyond  us  to  set  the  marriage  aside  as  a 
thing  begun  but  not  completed.  So,  having  this 
behind-time  flash  of  after-wit,  I  made  haste  to  efface 
the  question  I  had  asked. 

"Your  pardon,  I  pray  you ;  I  see  now  'tis  a  thing 
we  must  both  bury  out  of  sight.  But  to  the  other 
— the  matter  which  has  brought  me  hither ;  will  you 
put  me  in  the  way  of  finding  Father  Matthieu  ?" 

We  had  talked  on  through  the  measures  of  a 
cotillion,  and  the  dancers,  warm  and  wearied,  were 
beginning  to  fill  the  entrance  hall  below.  Our  poor 
excuse  for  privacy  would  be  gone  in  a  minute  or 
two,  and  she  spoke  quickly. 

"You  shall  see  Father  Matthieu,  and  I  will  help 
you.  But  you  must  not  linger  here.  In  a  few  days 
the  army  will  be  moving  northward — Oh,  heavens! 
what  have  I  said!" 

"Nothing,"  I  cut  in  swiftly;  "you  are  speaking 
now  to  your  husband — not  to  the  spy.  Go  on,  if 
you  please." 

"We  shall  return  to  Appleby  Hundred  within  the 
fortnight.  There,  if  you  are  still — if  you  desire  it, 
you  may  meet  the  good  cure,  and — " 

A  much-bepowdered  captain  of  cavalry  was  com- 
ing up  the  stair  to  claim  her,  and  I  was  fain  to  let 
her  go.  But  at  my  passing  of  her  to  the  step  below, 
I  whispered:  "I  shall  keep  the  tryst — my  first  and 
last  with  you,  dear  lady.  Adieu." 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED    FIRE          499 

So  soon  as  she  was  gone  I  made  haste  to  find 
Richard,  having,  as  I  feared,  greatly  overstayed 
my  appointment  to  meet  him  at  the  door.  He  was 
not  among  the  promenaders  in  the  hall,  so  I  began 
to  drift  again,  through  the  ball-room  and  so  on  to 
where  the  spread  table  stood  ringed  with  its  groups 
of  nibblers.  I  had  made  no  more  than  half  the 
round  of  the  refectory  when  I  saw  Margery  stand- 
ing in  the  curtained  arch,  looking  this  way  and  that, 
with  anxious  terror  written  plainly  in  her  face. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked,  when  she  had  found  me 
out. 

"  Tis  the  worst  that  could  happen,"  she  whis- 
pered. "You  are  discovered,  both  of  you.  Colonel 
Tarleton  was  too  shrewd  for  us.  He  has  let  it  be 
known  among  the  officers  that  there  are  two  spies 
in  the  house,  and  now — Hark !  what  is  that  ?" 

We  were  standing  in  a  deep  window-bay  and  I 
drew  the  curtain  an  inch  or  two.  The  air  without 
was  filled  with  the  trampling  of  hoofbeats  on  green- 
sward. A  light-horse  troop  was  surrounding  the 
manor  house. 

I  drew  her  arm  in  mine  and  led  her  back  to  the 
ball-room;  'twas  now  come  to  this,  that  open  pub- 
licity was  our  best  safeguard.  "We  must  find 
Dick,"  said  I.  "Have  you  seen  him  ?" 

"No." 

Together  we  made  the  slow  circuit  of  the  danc- 
ing-room, but  Jennifer  was  not  to  be  found.  Out 
of  the  tail  of  my  eye  I  saw  a  soldier  slipping  in  here 
and  there  to  stand  statue-like  against  the  wall. 


500       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY. 

This  brought  it  to  a  matter  of  minutes,  of  seconds, 
mayhap,  and  still  we  looked  in  vain  for  Dick. 

"Oh,  why  did  you  bring  him  here  ?  He  will  surely 
be  taken !"  Her  voice  was  tremulous  with  fear, 
and  I  answered  as  I  could,  being  sore  at  heart,  in 
spite  of  all,  that  her  chief  concern  should  be  for 
Richard. 

But  by  now  my  purpose  was  well  taken,  and 
though  it  appeared  that  Richard  Jennifer  was  more 
than  ever  my  successful  rival,  I  pledge  you,  my 
dears,  I  had  no  thought  of  leaving  him  behind. 
So  we  made  another  slow  round  of  the  rooms,  and 
whilst  we  were  looking  for  Dick  I  spoke  in  guarded 
whispers  to  warn  my  lady  of  Falconnet's  return. 
But  the  warning  was  not  needed. 

Her  shudder  of  loathing  shook  the  hand  on  my 
arm.  "That  man !  Oh,  Monsieur  John !  I  fear 
him  day  and  night!  If  I  could  but  run  away;  but 
we  are  not  finding  Dick — we  must  find  him 
quickly!" 

There  was  no  other  place  to  look  save  in  the  en- 
trance hall,  and  at  the  door  one  of  the  statue-like 
soldiers  took  two  steps  aside  and  barred  the  way. 
I  faced  about  and  we  plunged  once  again  into  the 
throng,  but  not  before  I  had  had  a  glimpse  of  Rich- 
ard in  the  hall  beyond.  When  the  chance  offered,  I 
bent  to  whisper. 

"Dick  is  in  the  hall,  looking  for  me,  go  you  to 
him  and  warn  him.  I  may  not  pass  the  door,  as 
you  have  seen." 

"He  will  not  escape  without  you,"  she  demurred. 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED   FIRE         501 

"Tell  him  he  must.     Tell  him  I  say  he  must!" 

She  glanced  over  her  shoulder  with  a  look  in  her 
eyes  that  made  me  think  of  a  wounded  bird  flutter- 
ing in  the  net  of  the  fowler. 

"Oh,  'tis  hard,  hard !"  she  murmured. 

I  snatched  the  word  from  her  lips.  "To  choose 
between  love  and  wifely  duty?  Then  I  make  it  a 
command.  Go,  quickly !" 

She  went  at  that,  and  I  made  my  way  slowly  to 
the  far  side  of  the  ball-room,  taking  post  in  a  deep- 
recessed  window  giving  upon  the  lawn.  Though  it 
was  January  and  the  night  was  chill  and  raw,  the 
rooms  were  summer  warm  with  the  breath  of  the 
crush,  and  some  one  had  swung  the  casement. 

Without,  I  could  hear  the  horses  of  the  waiting 
troop  champing  restlessly  at  their  bits,  and  now 
and  again  the  low  gentling  words  of  the  riders. 
Why  the  colonel  did  not  spring  his  trap  at  once 
I  could  not  guess;  though  I  learned  later  that  he 
had  magnified  our  two-man  spying  venture  into 
a  patriot  foray  meant  to  capture  the  whole  houseful 
of  British  officers  at  a  swoop,  and  was  taking  his 
measures  accordingly. 

'Twas  while  I  was  listening  to  the  champing 
horses  that  I  heard  my  name  whispered  in  the  dark- 
ness beyond  the  open  casement.  I  turned  slowly, 
and  the  nearest  of  the  soldier  watchers  began  to 
edge  his  way  toward  my  window. 

'  'Tis  I — Dick  Jennifer,"  whispered  tHe  voice 
without.  "Swing  the  casement  a  little  wider  and  out 
with  you.  Be  swift  about  it,  for  God's  sake !" 


502       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

"I  am  fair  trapped,"  I  whispered  back.  "Make 
off  as  you  can." 

"And  leave  you  behind  ?"  So  much  I  heard ;  and 
then  came  sounds  of  a  struggle;  the  breath-catch- 
ings  of  two  men  locked  in  a  strangler's  hold,  a 
smothered  oath  or  two,  a  fall  on  the  turf  under  the 
window,  followed  by  the  soft  thudding  of  fist  blows. 
I  could  bear  it  no  longer.  The  edging  soldier  had 
come  within  arm's  reach,  and  when  I  swung  the 
casement  a  little  wider,  he  laid  a  hand  on  my  shoul- 
der. 

"In  the  name  of  the  king !"  he  said ;  and  this  was 
all  he  had  time  or  leave  to  say.  For  at  the  summons 
I. drove  my  fist  against  the  point  of  his  wagging 
jaw,  to  send  him  plunging  among  the  dancers,  and 
the  recoil  of  the  blow  carried  me  clear  of  the  win- 
dow-seat with  what  a  din  and  clamor  of  a  hue 
and  cry  to  speed  the  parting  guest  as  you  may  figure 
for  yourselves. 

The  alighting  ground  of  the  leap  was  the  body  of 
Dick's  late  antagonist  lying  prone  beneath  the  win- 
dow ledge;  but  the  lad  himself  was  up  and  ready 
to  catch  me  when  I  stumbled  over  the  vanquished 
one. 

"  Tis  legs  for  it  now,"  he  cried.  "Make  for  the 
avenue  and  the  horses  at  the  hitch-rail !" 

At  rising  twenty  a  man  may  run  fast  and  far; 
at  rising  forty  he  may  still  run  far  if  the  first  hun- 
dred yards  do  not  burst  his  bellows.  So  when  we 
had  darted  through  the  thin  line  of  encircling  horse- 
men and  were  flying  down  the  broad  avenue  with 


OUR   PIECE   MISSED   FIRE         503 

all  the  troopers  who  had  caught  sight  of  us  thun- 
dering at  our  heels,  Dick  was  the  pace-setter, 
whilst  I  made  but  a  shifty  second,  gasping  and  pant- 
ing and  dying  a  thousand  deaths  in  the  effort  to 
catch  my  second  wind. 

"Courage !"  shouted  Dick,  flinging  the  word  back 
over  his  shoulder  as  he  ran.  "There  is  help  ahead 
if  we  can  live  to  reach  the  gate !" 

But,  luckily  for  me,  the  help  was  nearer  at  hand. 
Half  way  down  the  box-bordered  drive,  when  I 
was  at  my  last  gasp,  the  shrill  yell  of  the  border 
partizans  rose  from  the  shrubbery  on  the  right,  and 
a  voice  that  I  shall  know  and  welcome  in  another 
world  cried  out : 

"Stiddy,  boys !  stiddy  till  ye  can  see  the  whites  o' 
their  eyes!  Now,  then;  give  it  to  'em  hot  and 
heavy !" 

A  haphazard  banging  of  guns  followed  and  the 
pursuit  drew  rein  in  some  confusion,  giving  us 
time  to  reach  the  great  gate  and  the  horse-rail,  and 
to  loose  and  mount  the  gray  and  the  sorrel  we  had 
marked  out. 

Whilst  we  were  about  this  last,  Ephraim  Yeates 
came  loping  down  the  avenue  and  through  the  gate 
to  vault  into  the  saddle  of  the  first  horse  he  could 
lay  hands  on ;  and  so  it  was  that  we  three  took  the 
northward  road  in  the  silver  starlight,  with  the 
pursuit  now  in  order  again  and  in  full  cry  be- 
hind us. 

'Twas  not  until  we  had  safely  run  the  gantlet 
of  the  vedette  lines  by  a  by-path  known  to  the  old 


504       THE  MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

hunter,  and  had  shaken  off  the  troopers  that  were 
following,  that  I  found  time  to  ask  what  had  be- 
come of  the  men  who  had  formed  the  ambush  in 
the  shrubbery. 

The  old  man  gave  me  his  dry  chuckle  of  a  laugh. 

"  'Twas  the  same  old  roose  de  geer,  as  the  down- 
country  Frenchers  'u'd  say.  I  stole  the  drunken  ser- 
geant's gun  and  two  others,  and  let  'em  off  one  to  a 
time.  As  for  the  screechin',  one  bazoo's  as  good  as 
a  dozen,  if  so  be  ye  blow  it  fierce  enough." 

"  'Twas  cut  and  dried  beforehand,"  Dick  ex- 
plained. "I  had  an  inkling  of  what  was  afoot  from 
Ephraim,  here,  whom  I  stumbled  on  when  I  dropped 
from  the  stair  window  that  Madge  opened  for  me. 
He  went  to  set  his  one-man  ambush  whilst  I  was 
trying  to  warn  you." 

"So,"  said  I.  "Our  skins  are  whole,  but  after 
all  we  have  come  off  with  never  a  word  to  take 
back  to  Dan  Morgan — unless  you  have  the  word." 

"Not  I,"  Dick  said,  ruefully. 

The  old  man  chuckled  again. 

"Ye  ain't  old  enough,  neither  one  o'  ye,  ez  I 
allow.  It  takes  a  right  old  person  to  fish  out  the 
innards  of  an  inimy's  secrets.  Colonel  Tarleton, 
hoss,  foot  and  dragoons,  with  the  seventh  rigiment 
and  a  part  o'  the  seventy-first,  will  take  the  big 
road  for  Dan  Morgan's  camp  to-morrow  at  sun-up. 
And  right  soon  atterwards,  Gin'ral  Cornwallis  '11 
foller  on.  Is  that  what  you  youngsters  was  try- 
ing to  find  out?" 


XLVII 

ARMS  AND  THE  MAN 

In  that  book  he  wrote — the  book  in  which  he 
never  so  much  as  names  the  name  of  Ireton — my 
Lord  Cornwallis's  commissary-general,  Charles 
Stedman,  damns  Colonel  Tarleton  in  a  most  gentle- 
manly manner  for  his  ill-success  at  the  Cowpens, 
and  would  charge  to  his  account  personal  the  failure 
of  Cornwallis's  plan  to  crush  in  detail  the  patriot 
Army  of  the  South. 

Now  little  as  I  love,  or  have  cause  to  love,  Sir 
Banastre  Tarleton, — they  tell  me  he  has  been 
knighted  and  now  wears  a  major-general's  sword- 
knot, — 'tis  but  the  part  of  outspoken  honest  enmity 
to  say  that  we  owed  the  victory  at  the  Cowpens  to 
no  remissness  on  the  part  of  the  young  legion  com- 
mander who,  if  he  were  indeed  the  most  brutal, 
was  also  the  most  active  and  enterprising  of  Lord 
Cornwallis's  field  officers. 

No,  it  was  no  remissness  nor  lack  of  bravery  on 
the  part  of  the  enemy.    'Twas  only  that  the  tide  had 
turned.    King's  Mountain  had  been  fought  and  won, 
and  there  were  to  be  no  more  Camdens  for  us. 
505 


506        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

In  the  affair  at  the  cow  pastures,  which  followed 
hard  upon  Richard's  and  my  return  from  our  flying 
visit  to  Winnsborough,  the  very  elements  fought 
for  us  and  against  the  British.  As  for  instance: 
Tarleton,  with  his  famous  legion  of  horse,  and  in- 
fantry enough  to  make  his  numbers  exceed  ours, 
began  his  march  on  the  eleventh  and  was  rained  on 
and  mired  for  four  long  days  before  he  had  crossed 
the  Broad  and  had  come  within  scouting  distance 
of  us. 

Left  to  himself,  Dan  Morgan  would  have  locked 
horns  with  the  enemy  at  the  fording  of  the  Pacolet ; 
but  in  the  council  of  war,  our  colonel  and  John  How- 
ard of  the  Marylanders  were  for  drawing  Tarleton 
still  deeper  into  the  wilderness,  and  farther  from 
the  British  main,  which  was  by  this  moved  up  as  far 
as  Turkey  Creek.  So  we  broke  camp  hastily  and 
fell  back  into  the  hill  country ;  and  on  the  night  of 
the  sixteenth  took  post  on  the  northern  slope  of  a 
low  ridge  between  two  running  streams. 

For  its  backbone  our  force  had  some  three  hun- 
dred men  of  the  Maryland  line  and  two  companies 
of  Virginians.  These  formed  our  main,  and  were 
posted  on  the  rising  ground  with  John  Howard  for 
their  commander.  A  hundred  and  fifty  paces  in 
their  front,  partly  screened  in  the  open  pine,  oak 
and  chestnut  wooding  of  the  ground,  were  Pickens's 
Carolinians  and  the  Georgians ;  militiamen,  it  is 
true,  but  skilled  riflemen,  and  every  man  of  them 
burning  hot  to  be  avenged  on  Tarleton's  pillagers. 


ARMS   AND   THE   MAN  507 

Still  farther  to  the  front,  disposed  as  right  and 
left  wings  of  outliers,  were  Yeates  and  his  fellow 
borderers  and  some  sixty  of  the  Georgians  set  to 
feel  the  enemy's  approach;  and  in  the  reserve, 
posted  well  to  the  rear  of  the  Marylanders  and  Vir- 
ginians, was  our  own  colonel's  troop  guarding  the 
horses  of  the  dismounted  Georgians. 

'Twas  when  we  were  all  set  in  order  to  await  the 
sun's  rising  and  the  enemy's  approach  that  Dan 
Morgan  rode  the  lines  and  harangued  us.  He  was 
better  at  giving  and  taking  shrewd  blows  than  at 
speech-making;  but  we  all  knew  his  mettle  well  by 
now,  and  I  think  there  was  never  a  man  of  us  to 
laugh  at  his  unwonted  grandiloquence  and  solemn 
periods.  In  the  harangue  the  two  battle  lines  had 
their  orders :  to  be  steady ;  to  aim  low ;  and  above 
all  to  hold  their  fire  till  the  enemy  was  within  sure 
killing  distance. 

"  Tis  a  brave  old  Daniel,"  said  Dick,  whilst  the 
general  was  sawing  the  air  for  the  benefit  of  the 
South  Carolinians.  "  'Twill  not  be  his  fault  if  we 
fail.  But  you  are  older  at  this  business  than  any 
of  us,  Jack ;  what  think  you  of  our  chances  ?" 

I  laughed,  and  the  laugh  was  meant  to  be  grim. 
I  knew  the  temper  of  the  British  regulars,  and  how, 
when  well  led,  they  could  play  the  hammer  to  any- 
body's anvil. 

"Any  raw  recruit  can  prophesy  before  the  fact," 
said  I.  "We  have  Tarleton,  his  legion,  the  Seventh, 
a  good  third  of  the  Seventy-first,  and  two  pieces  of 


5o8       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

artillery  in  our  front.  If  they  do  not  give  a  good 
account  of  themselves,  'twill  be  because  Tarleton  has 
marched  them  leg-stiff  to  overtake  us." 

Dick  fell  silent  for  the  moment,  and  when  he 
spoke  again  some  of  Dan  Morgan's  solemnity 
seemed  to  have  got  into  his  blood. 

"I  have  a  sort  of  coward  inpricking  that  I  sha'n't 
come  out  of  this  with  a  whole  skin,  Jack ;  and  there's 
a  thing  on  my  mind  that  mayhap  you  can  take  off. 
You  have  had  Madge  to  yourself  a  dozen  times 
since  that  day  last  autumn  when  I  asked  her  for 
the  hundredth  time  to  put  me  out  of  misery.  As  I 
have  said,  she  would  not  hear  me  through ;  but  she 
gave  me  a  look  as  I  had  struck  her  with  a  whip. 
Can  you  tell  me  why  ?" 

The  morning  breeze  heralding  the  sunrise  was 
whispering  to  the  leafless  branches  overhead,  and 
there  was  nothing  in  all  Dame  Nature's  peaceful 
setting  of  the  scene  to  hint  at  the  impending  war- 
clash.  Yet  the  war  portent  was  abroad  in  all  the 
peaceful  morning,  and  my  mood  marched  with  the 
lad's  when  I  gave  him  his  answer. 

"Truly,  I  could  tell  you,  Richard ;  and  it  is  your 
due  to  know  it  from  no  other  lips  than  mine.  May- 
hap, a  little  later,  when  restitution  can  go  hand  in 
hand  with  repentance  and  confession — " 

"No,  no;"  he  cut  in  quickly.  "Tell  me  now, 
Jack ;  your  'little  later'  may  be  all  too  late — for  me. 
Does  she  love  you  ? — has  she  said  she  loves  you  ?" 

"Nay,  dear  lad;  she  despises  me  well  and  truly, 
and  has  never  missed  the  chance  of  saying  so.  Wait 


ARMS   AND   THE   MAN  509 

but  a  little  longer  and  I  pledge  you  on  the  honor  of 
a  gentleman  you  shall  have  Her  for  your  very  own. 
Will  that  content  you  ?" 

At  my  assurance  his  mood  changed  and  in  a 
twinkling  he  became  the  dauntless  soldier  who  fights, 
not  to  die,  but  to  win  and  live. 

"With  that  word  to  keep  me  I  shall  not  be  killed 
to-day,  I  promise  you,  Jack;  and  that  in  spite  of 
this  damned  queasiness  that  was  showing  me  the 
burying  trench."  And  then  he  added  softly :  "God 
bless  her!" 

I  could  say  amen  to  that  most  heartily;  did  it, 
and  would  have  gone  on  to  add  a  benison  of  my  own, 
but  at  the  moment  there  were  sounds  of  galloping 
horses  on  our  front,  and  presently  three  red-coated 
officers,  one  of  them  the  redoubtable  Colonel  Tarle- 
ton  himself,  rode  out  to  reconnoitre  us  most  coolly. 

I  doubt  if  he  would  have  been  so  rash  had  he 
known  that  Yeates  and  his  borderers  were  con- 
cealed in  easy  pistol-shot ;  but  the  simultaneous 
cracking  of  a  dozen  rifles  warned  and  sent  the  trio 
scuttling  back  to  cover. 

Dick  swore  piteously,  with  the  snap-shot  skir- 
mishers for  a  target.  "The  fumblers!"  he  raged. 
"  'Twas  the  chance  of  a  life-time,  and  they  all  missed 
like  a  lot  of  boys  at  their  first  deer  stalking !" 

"They  will  have  another  chance,  and  that  speed- 
ily," I  ventured;  and,  truly,  the  chance  did  not 
tarry. 

From  our  view  point  on  the  rising  ground  we 
could  see  the  enemy  forming  under  cover  of  the 


510       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

wood;  and  as  we  looked,  the  two  pieces  of  cannon 
were  thrust  to  the  front  to  bellow  out  the  signal  for 
the  assault. 

'Twas  a  sight  to  stir  the  blood  when  the  enemy 
broke  cover  into  the  opener  wooding  of  the  field 
to  the  tune  of  the  roaring  cannon,  the  volleyings 
of  small  arms  and  the  defiant  huzzaings  of  the  men. 
The  sun  was  just  peering  over  the  summit  of  Thick- 
etty  Mountain,  and  his  level  rays  fell  first  upon  the 
charging  line  sweeping  in  like  a  tidal  wave  of  red 
death  to  crumple  our  skirmishers  before  it. 

"Lord !"  says  Richard ;  "if  Yeates  and  the  Indian 
come  alive  out  of  that — " 

But  the  outliers  closed  upon  our  first  line  in 
decent  good  order,  firing  as  they  could ;  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  write  it  down  the  onsweeping 
wave  of  red  was  upon  the  Carolinians.  We  looked 
to  see  the  militia  fire  and  run,  home-guard  fashion ; 
but  these  men  of  Pickens's  were  made  of  more  sol- 
dierly stuff.  They  took  the  fire  of  the  assaulting 
line  like  veterans,  giving  ground  only  when  it  came 
to  the  bayonet  push. 

"That  fetches  it  to  us,"  said  Richard,  most  coolly ; 
drawing  his  claymore  when  the  Carolinians  began 
to  come  home  like  spindrift  ahead  of  the  wave  of 
red.  Then  he  had  a  steadying  word  for  the  men  of 
his  company,  and  a  hearty  shout  and  a  curse  for 
some  of  the  Georgians  who  had  cut  around  the 
flanks  of  our  main  to  come  at  their  horses  in  the 
rear. 

But  the  lad's  assertion  that  our  time  was  come 


ARMS   AND    THE   MAN  511 

was  only  a  half  prophecy.  The  Marylanders,  with 
the  Virginians  on  either  flank,  stood  firm,  giving 
the  onrushing  wave  a  shock  that  went  near  to 
breaking  it.  But  the  British  were  better  bayoneted 
than  we,  and  when  it  came  to  the  iron  our  lads  must 
needs  give  ground  sullenly,  fighting  their  way  back- 
ward as  a  stubborn  assault  fights  its  way  inch  by 
inch  forward. 

"Here  come  their  reserves,"  said  Dick,  pointing 
with  his  blade  to  a  second  red  line  forming  in  the 
farther  vistas  of  the  wood.  "Lord!  shall  we  never 
get  into  it  ?" 

'Twas  just  here  that  an  order  sent  by  Colonel 
Howard  to  his  first  company,  directing  it  to  charge 
by  the  flank,  came  near  costing  us  a  rout.  The  order 
was  misunderstood, — 'twas  received  at  the  precise 
moment  of  the  upcoming  of  the  British  reserves,— 
and  the  Marylanders  fell  back.  In  the  turning  of 
a  leaf  our  entire  fighting  front  gave  way,  and  what 
of  the  Georgians  there  were  left  in  the  mellay  made 
a  frantic  dash  for  the  horses. 

At  this  crisis  John  Howard  saved  the  day  for 
us  by  shrewdly  executing  the  most  difficult 
manceuver  that  is  ever  essayed  by  a  field  officer  in 
the  heat  of  battle.  Suffering  his  men  to  drift  back- 
ward until  the  enemy,  sure  now  of  success,  were 
rushing  on  in  disorder  to  give  the  coup  de  grace, 
he  gave  the  quick  command:  "About  face!  Fire! 
Charge!" 

I  saw  the  volley  delivered  in  the  faces  of  the  red- 
coats at  pike's  length  range ;  saw  the  Virginians  on 


512       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

tKe  flanks  bend  to  encircle  the  enemy ;  saw  the  rouf 
transfer  itself  at  the  roar  of  the  muskets  from  our 
side  to  the  recoiling  British.  Then  I  heard  Dick's 
shouted  command.  "Charge  them,  lads!  they're 
sabering  the  Georgians !" 

A  section  of  Tarleton's  horse  had  hewed  its  way 
past  our  flank  and  was  at  work  on  the  militiamen 
scrambling  for  their  mounts.  At  it  we  went,  with 
our  brave  colonel  a  horse's  length  ahead  of  the  best 
rider  in  the  troop,  pistols  banging  and  sword  blades 
whistling,  and  that  other  curious  sound  you  will 
hear  only  when  the  cavalry  engages — the  heavy 
dunch  of  the  horses  coming  together  like  huge  liv- 
ing missiles  hurled  from  catapults. 

'Twas  soon  over,  and  the  enemy,  horse  and  foot, 
was  flying  in  hopeless  confusion  through  the  open 
wood.  Our  troop  led  the  pursuit ;  and  this  brings 
me  to  an  incident  in  which  thy  old  chronicler — 
figuring  in  the  histories  as  an  unnamed  sergeant — 
had  his  share. 

It  was  in  the  hot  part  of  the  chase,  and  Colonel 
Tarleton — a  true  Briton  in  this,  that  he  would  be 
first  in  the  charge  and  last  in  the  retreat — was  gal- 
loping with  two  of  his  aides  in  rear  of  the  dragoons. 
Since  many  of  us  knew  the  British  commander  by 
sight,  there  was  a  great  clapping-to  of  spurs  to 
overtake  and  cut  him  off.  In  this  race  three  horses 
outdistanced  all  the  others ;  the  great  bay  ridden  by 
Colonel  Washington,  a  snappy  little  gray  bestrid- 
den by  the  colonel's  boy  bugler,  and  my  own  mount. 

When  the  crisis  came,  our  colonel  had  the  wind 


ARMS   AND   THE   MAN  513 

of  the  boy  and  me  and  was  calling  on  Colonel 
Tarleton  to  surrender  at  discretion.  For  answer 
the  three  British  officers  wheeled  and  fell  upon  him. 
Never  was  a  man  nearer  his  death.  In  a  whiff, 
Tarleton  was  foining  at  him  in  front  whilst  the  two 
aides  were  rising  in  their  stirrups  on  either  hand  to 
cut  him  down. 

'Twas  the  little  bugler  boy  who  saved  his  colonel's 
life,  and  not  the  unnamed  "sergeant,"  as  the  his- 
tories have  it.  Having  neither  a  sword  nor  the 
strength  to  wield  one,  the  boy  reined  sharp  to  the 
left  and  pistoled  his  man  as  neatly  as  you  please. 
Seeing  his  fellow  sabreur  drop  his  weapon  and  clap 
his  hand  to  the  pistol-wound,  my  man  hesitated 
just  long  enough  to  let  me  in  with  the  clumsiest  of 
upcuts  to  spoil  the  muscles  of  his  sword  arm.  This 
transferred  the  duel  to  the  two  principals,  who  were 
now  at  it,  hammer  and  tongs.  Both  were  good 
swordsmen,  but  of  the  twain  our  colonel  was  far 
the  cooler.  So  when  Tarleton  made  to  end  it  with 
a  savage  thrust  in  tierce,  Washington  parried  deftly 
and  his  point  found  his  antagonist's  sword  hand. 

At  this,  Tarleton  dropped  his  blade, — it  hangs  now 
over  the  chimney-piece  in  Mr.  Washington's  town 
house  in  Charleston, — gave  the  signal  for  flight,  and 
the  three  Britons,  each  with  a  wound  to  nurse, 
wheeled  and  galloped  on.  But  in  the  act  Tarleton 
snatched  a  pistol  from  his  holster  and  let  drive  at 
our  colonel,  wounding  him  in  the  knee,  so  we  did 
not  come  off  scatheless. 

This   pistoling  of  Colonel  Washington  by  the, 


514       THE   MASTER   OF!  APPLEBYi 

British  commander  skimmed  a  little  of  the  cream 
from  our  great  and  glorious  victory.  'Twas  no 
serious  hurt,  but  wanting  it  I  make  no  doubt  we 
should  have  ridden  down  the  flying  dragoons,  add- 
ing them,  and  their  doughty  colonel  to  boot,  to  the 
five-hundred-odd  prisoners  we  took. 

The  battle  fought  and  won, — 'twas  over  and  done 
with  two  full  hours  before  noon, — Dan  Morgan 
knew  well  what  must  befall,  lacking  the  swiftest 
after-doing  on  our  part.  With  Greene  near  a  hun- 
dred miles  away,  and  my  Lord  Cornwallis  less  than 
three  hours'  gallop  to  the  southward  on  Turkey 
Creek,  the  time  was  come  for  the  hastiest  welding 
of  our  little  army  with  that  of  the  general-in-com- 
mand ;  if,  indeed,  the  promptest  running  would  take 
us  to  the  upper  fords  of  the  Catawba  before  Corn- 
wallis should  intervene  and  cut  us  off. 

Accordingly,  Jennifer  and  I  were  detailed  to  carry 
the  news  of  the  victory  to  Greene's  camp  at  Cheraw 
Hill ;  and  when  we  rode  away  on  the  warm  trail  of 
the  flying  British,  we  left  Dan  Morgan's  men  hard 
at  it,  burning  the  heavy  impedimenta  of  the  capture, 
and  otherwise  making  ready  for  the  swiftest  of 
forced  marches  to  the  north. 

*T would  be  a  thankless  task  to  take  you  with  us 
stage  by  stage  on  our  cross-country  gallop  to  adver- 
tise General  Greene  of  the  victory  at  the  cow  pas- 
tures. Suffice  it  to  say  that  we  made  shift  to  turn 
the  head  of  the  advancing  British  main,  now  in 
motion  and  hastening  with  all  speed  to  cut  Dan 
Morgan  off ;  that  we  were  by  turns  well  soaked  by. 


ARMS   AND   THE   MAN  515 

rain  and  stream,  deep  mired  in  bogs,  chased  times 
without  number  by  the  enemy's  outriders,  and  hard- 
shipped  freely  for  food  and  horse  provender  before 
we  saw  the  camp  on  the  Pedee.  All  this  you  may 
figure  for  yourselves,  the  main  point  being  that  we 
came  at  length  to  the  goal,  weary,  mire-splashed 
and  belted  to  the  last  buckle-hole  to  pinch  down  the 
hunger  pains,  but  sound  of  skin,  wind  and  limb. 

Having  our  news,  which  set  the  camp  in  a  pretty 
furor  of  rejoicing,  I  promise  you,  General  Greene 
lost  not  an  hour  in  making  his  dispositions.  Leav- 
ing Isaac  Huger  and  Colonel  Otho  Williams  in 
command  at  Cheraw,  the  general  sent  Edward  Ste- 
vens with  the  Virginians  by  way  of  Charlotte  to 
Morgan's  aid,  and  himself  took  horse,  with  a  hand- 
ful of  dragoons  in  which  Dick  and  I  were  volun- 
teers, to  ride  post  haste  to  a  meeting  with  Morgan 
at  the  upper  fords. 

Again  I  may  pass  lightly  over  an  interval  of 
three  days  spent  hardily  in  the  saddle,  coming  at 
once  to  that  rain-drenched  thirty-first  of  January, 
cold,  raw  and  dismal,  when  we  drew  rein  at  Sher- 
rard's  Ford  and  found  Dan  Morgan  and  his  men 
safe  across  the  Catawba  with  his  prisoners,  and 
my  Lord  Cornwallis  quite  as  safe  flood-checked 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  stream. 

Having  done  our  errand,  Dick  and  I  reported  at 
once  to  dtir  colonel.  'Twas  of  a  piece  with  William 
Washington's  goodness  of  heart  to  offer  us  leave 
to  rest. 

"You  have  had  weary  work  of  it,  I  doubt  not, 


Si6       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBYi 

gentlemen,"  he  would  say.  "Your  time  is  your  own 
until  General  Greene  sets  us  in  order  for  what  he 
has  in  mind  to  do." 

I  looked  at  Dick,  and  he  looked  at  me. 

"May  we  safely  count  upon  twenty-four  hours, 
think  you,  Colonel?"  I  asked. 

"Safely,  I  should  say."       . 

"Then  I  shall  ask  leave  of  absence  for  Captain 
Jennifer  and  myself  till  this  time  to-morrow,"  I 
went  on.  "This  is  our  home  neighborhood,  as  you 
know,  and  we  have  a  little  matter  of  private  busi- 
ness which  may  be  despatched  in  a  day." 

"Will  this  business  take  you  without  the  lines?" 

"That  is  as  it  may  be,  sir.  I  do  not  know  the 
bounds  of  the  outposting." 

The  colonel  wrote  us  passes  to  come  and  go  at 
will  past  the  sentries,  and  I  drew  Dick  away. 

"What  is  it,  Jack?"  he  asked,  when  we  were  by 
ourselves. 

"  'Tis  the  fulfilling  of  my  promise  to  you,  Richard. 
Get  your  horse  and  we  will  ride  together." 

"But  whither?"  he  queried. 

"To  Appleby  Hundred — and  Mistress  Margery." 


XLVIII 

HOW  WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBY  HUNDRED 

'Twas  late  in  tKe  afternoon  of  the  last  day  of 
January  when  we  set  out  together,  Jennifer  and  I, 
from  the  camp  of  conference  at  Sherrard's  Ford. 

The  military  situation,  lately  so  critical  for  us, 
had  reached  and  passed  one  of  its  many  subclimaxes. 
Morgan's  little  army,  with  its  prisoners  still  safe 
in  hand,  was  on  its  way  northward  to  Charlottes- 
ville  in  Virginia,  and  only  the  officers  remained 
behind  to  confer  with  General  Greene. 

For  the  others,  Huger  and  Williams  were  hurry- 
ing up  from  Cheraw  to  meet  the  general  at  Salis- 
bury ;  and  General  Davidson,  with  a  regiment  of 
North  Carolina  volunteers,  was  set  to  keep  the  fords 
of  the  Catawba. 

As  for  the  British  commander's  intendings,  we 
had  conflicting  reports.  Two  days  earlier,  Lord 
Cornwallis  had  burned  his  heavy  baggage  at  Ram- 
sour's  Mill,  and  so  we  had  assurance  that  the  pur- 
suit was  only  delayed.  But  whether,  when  he  should 
break  his  camp  at  Forney's  plantation,  he  would  go 
northward  after  Morgan  and  the  prisoners,  or  cross 
517 


5i8       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

the  river  at  some  nearhand  ford  to  chase  our  main, 
none  of  our  scouts  could  tell  us. 

We  were  guessing  at  this,  Richard  and  I,  as  we 
jogged  on  together  down  the  river  road,  and  were 
agreed  that  could  my  Lord  cross  the  flooded  river 
without  loss  of  time,  his  better  chance  would  be  to 
fall  upon  our  main  at  Salisbury  or  thereabouts. 
But  as  to  the  possibility  of  his  crossing,  we  fell 
apart. 

"Lacking  another  drop  of  rain,  we  are  safe  for 
forty-eight  hours  yet,"  Dick  would  say,  pointing  to 
the  brimming  river  rolling  its  brown  flood  at  our 
right  as  we  fared  on.  "And  with  two  days'  start 
we  shall  have  him  burning  more  than  his  camp  wag- 
ons to  overtake  us." 

"Have  it  so,  if  you  will,"  said  I,  to  end  the  argu- 
ment. "But  this  I  know:  were  Dan  Morgan  or 
General  Greene,  or  you  or  I,  in  Lord  Cornwallis's 
shoes,  the  two  days  would  not  be  lost." 

Jennifer  laughed.  "Leave  the  rest  of  us  out,  Sir 
Hannibal  Ireton,  and  tell  what  you  would  do,"  he 
said,  mocking  me. 

We  were  at  that  bend  in  the  road  where  Jan 
Howart  and  his  Tories  had  sought  to  waylay  us 
in  the  cool  gray  dawn  of  a  certain  June  morning 
when  we  were  galloping  this  same  road  to  keep 
my  appointment  with  Sir  Francis  Falconnet.  A 
huge  rock  makes  a  promontory  in  the  stream  just 
here,  and  I  pointed  to  a  water-worn  cavity  in  it 
where  the  flood  lapped  in  and  out  in  gurgling  eddies. 


WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBY  519 

"You've  been  sharp  to  take  me  up  on  my  forget- 
ting of  the  landmarks,  but  there  is  one  I've  not  for- 
got," said  I.  "One  day,  about  the  time  you  were 
getting  yourself  born,  I  was  passing  this  way  with 
my  father  and  a  company  of  the  county  gentlemen. 
'Twas  in  the  Seven  Years'  War,  and  the  Cherokees 
were  threatening  us  from  the  other  side.  The  river 
was  in  flood  as  it  is  now;  and  I  mind  my  father 
saying  that  when  you  could  see  that  hole  in  the  rock, 
Macgowan's  Ford  would  be  no  more  than  armpit 
deep." 

"So?"  said  Richard;  "then  it  behooves  us  to — " 
He  stopped  in  mid  sentence,  drew  rein  and  shifted 
his  sword  hilt  to  the  front. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked. 

For  reply  he  pointed  me  to  a  canoe  half  hidden 
in  the  bushes  where  roadside  and  river-edge  came 
together. 

I  laughed.  "An  empty  pirogue.  Shall  we  charge 
and  run  it  through  ?" 

"Hist !"  said  he ;  "that  canoe  was  afloat  a  minute 
since.  Mark  the  paddle — 'tis  dripping  yet." 

As  he  spoke  an  Indian  stood  up  in  the  bushes 
beside  the  pirogue,  holding  out  his  empty  hands  in 
token  of  amity.  We  rode  up  and  were  presently 
shaking  hands  with  our  old-time  ally,  the  Catawba. 

"How !"  said  he ;  "heap  how !  Chief  Harris  glad ; 
wah!  Make  think  have  to  go  to  Sal 'bury  to  find 
Captain  Long-knife  and  Captain  Jennif.  Heap 
much  glad !" 

"Chief  Harris?"  I  queried.    "Who  may  he  be?" 


520       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

The  Catawba  drew  himself  up  and  drummed  upon 
his  breast. 

"Chief  Harris  here,"  he  answered,  proudly.  "The 
Great  War  Chief,"  by  which  we  understood  he 
meant  General  Greene,  "say  all  Catawba  take  war- 
path 'gainst  redcoat;  make  Uncanoola  headman; 
give  um  new  name.  Wah !" 

At  this  we  shook  hands  with  him  again,  well 
pleased  that  our  stanch  ally  should  have  recogni- 
tion at  the  hands  of  the  general.  Then  I  would  ask 
if  he  were  on  the  way  to  raise  his  tribesmen  to  fight 
with  us. 

"Bimeby ;  no  have  time  now ;  big  thing  over  yon- 
der," pointing  across  the  river.  "Manitou  Corn- 
wally  fool  Great  War  Chief,  mebbe,  hey?" 

"How  is  that  ?"  said  Dick ;  and  the  query  elicited 
a  bit  of  news  to  make  us  prick  our  ears.  The 
Catawba  had  been  in  the  British  camp  at  Forney's, 
posturing  again  as  a  Cherokee  friendly  to  the  king's 
side.  Some  sudden  movement  had  been  determined 
upon,  though  what  it  was  to  be  he  could  not  learn. 
At  the  end  of  his  own  resources  he  had  crossed  the 
river  in  a  stolen  pirogue  to  find  and  warn  us. 

"What  say  you,  Dick?"  I  asked,  when  we  had 
heard  the  Catawba  through. 

The  lad  was  holding  his  lip  in  his  hand  and  scowl- 
ing as  one  who  pits  duty  against  inclination. 

"  'Tis  our  cursed  luck !"  he  gloomed.  Then  he 
swore  it  out  by  length  and  breadth,  and,  when  the 
air  was  cleared,  let  me  have  what  was  in  his  mind. 


WE   KEPT   TRYST   AT   APPLEBY    521 

"After  all,  'tis  like  enough  we  should  find  Appleby 
house  deserted.  Gilbert  Stair  will  cling  to  Lord 
Cornwallis's  coat-skirt  as  long  as  he  can  for  sheer 
safety's  sake.  At  all  events,  our  business  must  wait ; 
the  country's  weal  comes  first."  Then  to  the  Indian : 
"If  we  can  make  the  beasts  take  the  water,  will  you 
ferry  us  across,  Chief?" 

The  Catawba  nodded,  and  made  the  nod  good  by 
setting  us  dry-shod  on  the  farther  bank  of  the  brown 
flood.  By  the  time  we  had  the  horses  rubbed  down 
and  resaddled  'twas  twilight  in  the  open  and  night 
dark  in  the  wood ;  but  we  were  on  our  own  ground 
and  knew  every  by-path  through  the  forest. 

So,  when  we  had  sent  the  Indian  back  to  carry 
news  of  us  to  General  Davidson  at  the  lower  ford, 
and  to  advertise  him  of  our  purpose,  we  mounted 
to  begin  a  scouting  jaunt,  keeping  to  the  wood 
paths  and  bearing  cautiously  northward  toward  the 
enemy's  camp  at  Forney's  plantation. 

At  times  we  were  close  upon  the  British  sentries, 
with  every  nerve  strained  tense  for  fight  or  flight ; 
anon  we  would  be  making  wide  detours  through 
bog  and  fen,  or  beneath  the  black  network  of  wet 
branches  with  the  rain-soaked  leaf  beds  under  foot 
to  make  the  horses'  treadings  as  noiseless  as  a  cat's. 

None  the  less,  in  the  fullness  of  time — 'twas  near 
about  midnight  as  we  guessed  it — we  had  our  pa- 
tience well  rewarded.  Hovering  on  the  confines  of 
the  camp  we  heard  the  muffled  drum-tap  of  the 
reveille,  and  soon  there  was  the  stir  of  an  army 
making  ready  for  the  march. 


522       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

"Which  way  will  it  be,  north  or  south?"  whis- 
pered Dick,  when  we  had  dismounted  to  cloak  the 
heads  of  the  horses. 

"We  shall  know  shortly,"  said  I;  and  truly,  we 
did,  being  well-nigh  enveloped  and  ridden  down 
by  the  fringe  of  light-horse  deploying  to  pioneer  the 
way.  When  we  had  sheered  off  to  let  this  skirmish 
cloud  blow  by,  Dick  struck  a  spark  into  his  tinder- 
box  to  have  a  sight  of  his  compass  needle. 

"South  and  by  east,"  he  announced;  "that  will 
mean  Beattie's  Ford,  I  take  it." 

"Not  unless  they  swim,  horse  and  foot,"  I  ob- 
jected. "  'Twill  be  Macgowan's,  more  likely." 

Having  this  uncertainty  to  resolve,  we  must  hang 
upon  the  skirts  of  the  British  advance  till  we  could 
make  sure,  and  this  proved  to  be  a  most  perilous 
business.  Yet  by  riding  abreast  of  the  moving 
main  we  did  resolve  the  uncertainty;  heard  the  or- 
ders passed  from  man  to  man,  and  later  saw  a  small 
feinting  detachment  split  off  to  take  the  road  for 
Beattie's,  whilst  the  main  body  held  on  for  Mac- 
gowan's; all  this  before  we  were  discovered  in  the 
gloaming  of  the  dawn  by  some  of  Tarleton's  men. 

Then,  I  promise  you,  my  dears,  it  was  neck  or 
nothing,  with  the  devil  to  take  the  hindmost.  Away 
we  sped  toward  the  near-by  river,  spurring  our 
wearied  beasts  as  men  who  ride  for  life,  with  a 
dozen  troopers  so  close  upon  us  that  when  I  glanced 
over  my  shoulder  the  foremost  of  the  redcoat  riders 
was  having  his  face  well  bespattered  with  the  mud 
from  my  horse's  heels. 


WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBY  523 

'Tvvas  touch  and  go,  but  happily,  as  I  have  said, 
the  river  was  at  hand.  We  came  to  the  high  bank 
some  hundred  yards  above  the  fording  place,  and 
lacking  Dick's  example  to  shame  me  to  the  braver 
course,  I  fear  I  should  have  recoiled  at  the  brink. 
But  when  the  lad  sent  his  horse  without  the  missing 
of  a  bound  far  out  over  the  eddying  flood,  I  shook 
the  reins  on  the  sorrel's  neck,  gave  him  the  word 
and  shut  my  eyes. 

After  all,  it  was  nothing  worse  than  a  cold  plunge, 
with  a  few  pistol  bullets  to  spatter  harmlessly 
around  us  when  we  came  up  for  air.  Moreover, 
there  were  the  camp-fires  of  Davidson's  men  on  the 
farther  bank  to  encourage  us;  and  so  swimming 
and  wading  by  turns  we  got  across  in  time  to  give 
the  alarum. 

As  you  would  guess,  there  was  a  mighty  stir  on 
our  side  of  the  river  when  we  had  splashed  ashore 
and  got  our  news  well  born.  As  it  turned  out, 
General  Davidson's  main  camp  was  a  good  half- 
mile  back  from  the  river  in  one  of  the  outfields  of 
Appleby  Hundred.  So  it  chanced  there  were  upon 
the  spot  only  brave  Joe  Graham  and  his  fifty  rifle- 
men to  dispute  the  passage  of  an  army. 

What  was  done  at  Macgowan's  Ford  in  the  gray 
of  the  morning  of  February  first,  1781,  has  become  a 
page  in  our  history.  But  I  protest  that  not  any 
of  the  chroniclers  do  even-handed  justice  to  the  little 
band  of  patriot  riflemen  doing  their  utmost  to  hold 
a  hundred-to-one  outnumbering  host  in  check. 


524       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

'Twas  a  fine  sight,  be  the  onlooker  Whig1  or  Tory. 
The  Guards,  led  by  the  fiery  Irishman,  O'Hara,  took 
the  water  first,  the  men  crowding  shoulder  to  shoul- 
der to  brace  against  the  sweep  of  the  current 
which,  on  the  western  side  of  the  stream,  was  little 
less  than  a  mill-tail  for  swiftness.  After  them  came 
the  foot  and  horse  in  solid  squares,  and  always  with 
more  to  follow.  None  the  less,  our  little  handful  did 
not  blanch ;  and  when  the  Guards  in  midstream  held 
straight  across  instead  of  bearing  to  the  right  as 
the  ford  ran,  a  shout  went  up  on  our  side  and  the 
fifty  hastened  up  from  the  ford-head  as  one  man  to 
face  the  enemy  squarely. 

Now  it  was  that  the  brown-barreled  rifles  began 
to  crack  and  spit  fire ;  and  I  do  think  if  we  had  had 
our  other  two  hundred  and  fifty  out  of  that  back  field 
on  the  manor  lands,  we  might  at  least  have  made 
the  wading  redcoats  hurry  a  little.  Indeed,  as  it 
was,  the  van  of  the  Guards  broke  here  and  there, 
and  we  could  hear  O'Hara  berating  his  men  as  only 
a  battle-mad  Irishman  can,  with  blarneyings  and 
curses  intermingled. 

Having  no  firearms  save  our  wetted  pistols,  Jen- 
nifer and  I  crouched  in  cover,  waiting  to  do  what 
two  swordsmen  might  when  the  blade's  length 
should  bridge  the  fast-narrowing  distance  between 
us  and  the  advancing  host. 

'Twas  in  this  little  interval  of  forced  inaction  that 
we  heard  a  most  familiar  voice  issuing  from  a 
clump  of  holly  just  below  our  covert;  a  voice  lifted 


WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBV  525 

now  in  fervent  prayer  and  again  in  Scriptural  anath- 
ema on  the  foe. 

"  'Let  God  arise  and  let  His  inimies  be  scattered. 
.  .  Let  them  be  as  the  chaff  upon  a  threshing- 
floor'—" 

The  sharp  crack  of  the  old  borderer's  rifle  filled 
the  momentary  pause,  and  a  British  officer  in  a 
colonel's  uniform  swayed  drunkeniy  in  his  saddle 
and  plunged  headlong  in  the  stream. 

"  'Let  them  be  as  the  children  of  Amalek  before 
the  Mighty  One  of  Israel:  make  them  and  their 
princes  like  Oreb  and  Zeeb;  yea,  make  all  their 
princes  like  as  Zebah  and  Zalmunna.  .  .  O  my 
God,  make  them  like  unto  a  wheel,  and  as  the  stub- 
ble before  the  wind ;  like  as  the  fire  that  burneth  up 
the  wood,  and  as  the  flame  that  consumeth  the 
mountains.'  " 

Crack!  went  the  long-barreled  piece  again,  and 
again  an  officer  hallooing  on  his  floundering  bat- 
talion bent  to  his  saddle  horn  and  slipped  into  the 
turbid  flood. 

:  My  gorge  rose.  This  picking  off  of  officers  has 
always  seemed  to  me  the  savagest  of  war's  barbari- 
ties. How  Richard  divined  my  thought  and  pur- 
pose, I  know  not ;  but  when  I  would  have  slipped 
down  to  Yeates's  holly  bush  he  laid  a  detaining 
hand  on  my  arm. 

"Let  be,"  he  said ;  "  'tis  murder,  if  you  like,  but 
all  war  is  that.  When  old  Eph's  turn  comes,  they 
will  kill  him  as  relentlessly  as  he  is  killing  them." 


526       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

By  this  time  the  British  vanguard  was  storming 
ashore  through  the  shallows  below  the  tree  fringe 
which  served  as  cover  for  Graham's  men,  and  the 
king's  muskets,  silent  hitherto,  began  to  roar  and 
belch  by  platoon  and  volley  fire.  Jennifer  craned 
his  neck  and  took  a  swift  view  of  the  situation. 

"By  the  Lord  Harry !"  he  cried,  "  'tis  high  time 
Joe  Graham  was  getting  his  lads  in  order  for  a 
foot  race.  Once  those  fellows  come  ashore  they'll 
play  hare  and  hounds  with  us  to  the  king's  taste. 
Keep  your  eye  on  the  nags,  Jack.  It  may  chance 
us  to  do  what  two  men  can  to  cover  a  belated 
retreat." 

We  had  tethered  our  horses  in  a  thicket  of  scrub 
oak  where  they  would  be  out  of  bullet-reach  until 
the  enemy  gained  the  bank.  As  I  looked  to  make 
sure  of  them,  the  sorrel  gave  a  shrill  neigh  to  wel- 
come the  pounding  of  hoofs  on  the  Appleby  road. 
I  made  sure  this  would  be  General  Davidson  bring- 
ing in  the  reserves ;  and  so,  indeed,  it  was ;  but  he 
came  too  late.  O'Hara's  men  were  already  climbing 
the  bank;  and  Joe  Graham  was  rallying  his  little 
company  for  flight  in  the  face  of  an  onset  that  made 
the  tree  fringe  sing  with  musket  balls. 

"  'Tis  our  cue  to  run  away !"  Dick  shouted,  drag- 
ging me  to  my  feet.  "To  the  horses !" 

But  now  we  were  too  late.  Davidson's  men  were 
between  us  and  the  scrub  oak  thicket,  and  we  must 
wait  till  the  column  swept  by. 

Dick  swore  fervently  and  put  his  face  to  the  foe 


WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBY  527 

and  his  back  to  a  tree.  Whereupon  I  dragged  him 
down  as  promptly  as  he  had  just  now  dragged  me 
up,  telling  him  his  broadsword  would  make  but  a 
poor  shift  parrying  musket-balls. 

What  followed  after  was  over  and  done  with  in  a 
dozen  fluttering  heart-beats.  Seeing  the  case  was 
desperate,  General  Davidson  gathered  Graham's 
fifty  into  his  flying  column,  flogged  his  rear  into  the 
retreat,  and  was  pitched  out  of  his  saddle  by  a  Tory 
rifle-bullet  whilst  he  was  doing  it.  And  when  the 
way  to  our  horses  was  clear  of  the  galloping  Caro- 
linians, and  we  would  have  run  to  mount  and  ride 
after  them,  the  swarming  redcoat  van  was  upon  us. 

"Up  with  you  and  out  of  this!"  cried  Jennifer, 
setting  me  the  example.  "We  must  e'en  gallop  as 
we  can.  Quick,  man !" 

But  in  the  gathering  and  the  retreat  our  old 
sharpshooter  under  his  holly  bush  had  been  left  be- 
hind; and  now  we  heard  him  again,  chanting  his 
terrible  imprecations  on  the  enemy. 

Dick  saw  the  meaning  in  my  look,  and  together 
we  pounced  to  drag  the  old  man  out  of  hiding. 
When  we  burst  down  upon  him,  Yeates  had  his 
piece  to  his  face  and  was  drawing  a  bead  on  a  stout 
man  in  cocked  hat  and  plain  regimentals  whose 
horse  was  curveting  and  sidling  in  the  nearer  shal- 
lows ;  no  less  a  figure,  in  truth,  than  my  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  himself,  cheering  his  men  on  to  the  attack. 

We  had  scarce  made  out  the  old  hunter's  target 
when  the  rifle  spat  fire,  the  curveting  charger 


528       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

reared  in  its  death  plunge,  and  the  British  com- 
mander-in-chief,  unhurt,  as  it  seemed,  was  dragged 
from  the  entanglement  of  his  stirrups  by  his  aides. 

The  old  marksman  sprang  up  in  a  fury  of  wrath. 
"Dad  blast  ye  for  a  pair  of  aim-sp'ilin' — " 

A  roar  of  musketry  cut  the  rebuke  in  half,  and  a 
storm  of  bullets  smote  through  the  branches  over- 
head. A  falling  bough  knocked  my  hat  off,  and  I 
stooped  to  recover  it.  When  I  rose,  Dick  was  clip- 
ping the  old  man  tightly  in  his  arms.  Yeates's  belt 
was  cut,  and  a  little  oozing  well-spring  of  red  was 
slowly  soaking  the  fringe  of  his  hunting-shirt. 

"Ease  me  down,  Cap'n  Dick ;  ease  me  down.  The 
old  man's  done  for,  this  time,  ez  I  allow — spang  in 
the  innards.  Ease  me  down  and  get  off  for  yer- 
selves,  if  so  be  ye  can,  im — me — jit — " 

The  wagging  jaw  dropped  and  the  keen  old  eyes 
went  dim  and  sightless.  Dick's  oath  was  more  a 
sob  than  an  imprecation;  and  now  it  was  I  who 
said :  "Come  on — the  living  before  the  dead !"  and 
so  we  made  the  well-nigh  hopeless  dash  for  the 
horses. 

How  we  rode  free  out  of  that  hurly-burly  at  the 
ford-head  you  must  figure  for  yourselves,  if  you 
can.  The  men  of  the  British  vanguard  were  all 
about  us  when  we  got  to  the  scrub  oak  thicket  and 
mounted,  but  no  one  of  them  raised  a  hand  to  stay 
us.  I  have  thought  since  that  mayhap  they  took 
us  for  a  pair  of  their  own  Tory  allies  who  were  not 
above  wearing  the  stolen  uniforms  of  the  dead.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  we  rode  away  unhindered,  Dick  in 


WE  KEPT  TRYST  AT  APPLEBY.  529 

all  the  bravery  of  his  captain's  slashings,  and  I  in 
light-horse  buff  and  blue,  taking  the  road  toward 
the  manor  house  because  that  was  the  only  one  open 
to  us,  and  ambling  leisurely  till  we  were  beyond 
the  sight  and  sound  of  the  victors  at  the  ford. 

But  once  at  large,  we  put  spurs  to  our  horses  in 
true  ritter  fashion;  and  we  had  galloped  half  way 
to  Appleby  house  before  Dick  said : 

"Now  we  are  well  out  of  that,  what  next?  We 
can  not  go  to  Margery  with  the  whole  British  army 
at  our  heels." 

"Nay,  but  we  shall,  if  only  for  a  short  half-hour," 
I  asserted.  Then,  as  once  before,  I  gave  him  my 
best  bow.  "For  the  last  time,  it  may  be,  let  me 
play  the  lord  of  the  manor.  You  are  very  welcome 
to  my  father's  demesne,  Richard,  and  to  all  of  its 
Holdings." 

"All  ?"  said  he,  giving  me  a  quick  eye-shot  as  we 
pressed  on  side  by  side. 

"Yes,  all,"  said  I;  and  I  meant  it  in  good  faith. 
He  should  have  the  lady,  too ;  that  precious  holding 
of  the  old  manse  without  whom  my  father's  acres 
would  be  but  a  bauble  to  be  lost  or  won  indifferently. 

"Then  you  do  not  love  Madge  more  ?"  he  queried, 
his  eye  kindling. 

"Nay,  I  did  not  say  that.  But  I  did  say  the  other ; 
that  you  should  have  the  house  and  all  its  holdings." 

We  were  cantering  up  the  oak-sentried  avenue 
to  that  door  which  Gilbert  Stair  had  once  sought  to 
keep  against  us  with  his  bell-mouthed  blunderbuss. 
There  was  no  sign  of  any  living  thing  about  the 


530       JHE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

place;  and  when  we  had  no  answer  to  our  sword- 
hilt  knockings  on  the  door,  the  lad  turned  upon  me 
with  a  flash  of  anger  in  his  eyes  and  his  lip  a-curl. 
"You  knew  full  well  what  you  were  promising, 
John  Ireton !"  he  said.  "She  is  not  here." 


XLIX 

IN  WHICH  A  LAWYER  HATH  HIS  FEE 

What  Richard's  most  natural  resentment  would 
have  led  to,  in  what  new  tangle  of  the  net  of  bitter- 
ness we  might  have  been  enmeshed,  we  were  spared 
the  knowing.  For  when  he  said,  "She  is  not  here," 
two  happenings  intervened  to  give  us  both  other 
things  to  think  of. 

The  first  was  the  advent,  at  the  far  end  of  the 
oak-lined  avenue,  of  a  troop  of  British  light-horse, 
trotting  leisurely;  the  second  was  the  swinging  in- 
ward of  the  door  of  unwelcome,  with  old  Anthony 
grinning  and  bowing  behind  it. 

Now  when  you  have  fairly  surprised  a  fox  in  the 
open,  he  asks  nothing  more  than  a  hole  to  hide  him 
in.  There  were  the  hunters  coming  up  the  avenue ; 
and  here  was  our  dodge-hole  gaping  before  us.  So, 
as  hunted  things  will,  we  took  earth  quickly; 
though,  truly,  'twas  an  ostrich-trick  rather  than  a 
fox's,  since  we  left  the  horses  standing  without  to 
advertise  our  presence  to  all  and  sundry. 

It  was  Richard  who  first  found  the  wit  to  realize 
the  ostrich-play. 

531 


532       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

"The  horses ! — we  may  as  well  have  left  the  town 
crier  outside  to  ring  his  bell  and  tell  the  redcoats 
we  are  here,"  he  would  say ;  and  before  I  knew  what 
he  would  be  at  he  had  snatched  the  door  open  and 
was  whistling  softly  to  the  big  gray. 

Hearing  his  master's  call,  the  gray  pricked  his 
ears  and  came  obediently,  with  the  sorrel  tagging 
at  his  heels.  A  moment  later,  when  the  up-coming 
troop  was  hidden  by  a  turn  in  the  avenue,  we  had 
the  pair  of  them  in  the  hall  with  the  door  shut  and 
barred  behind  them. 

"So  far,  so  good,"  quoth  Dick.  Then  to  the  old 
black,  who  had  stood  by,  saucer-eyed  and  speech- 
less, the  while :  "Anthony,  do  you  be  as  big  a  numb- 
skull as  you  were  born  to  be,  and  hold  these  redcoat 
gentlemen  in  palaver  till  we  can  win  out  at  the 
back." 

The  old  majordomo  nodded  his  good- will,  but 
now  my  slow  wit  came  in  play.  "We've  done  it 
now,"  said  I.  "The  horses  will  go  out  as  they  came 
in,  or  not  at  all.  Had  you  forgotten  the  stair  at  the 
back?" 

Judge  for  yourselves,  my  dears,  if  this  were  the 
time,  place  or  crisis  for  a  man  to  fling  himself  upon 
the  hall  settle,  grip  his  ribs  and  laugh  like  any 
lack-wit.  Yet  this  is  what  Richard  Jennifer  did. 

It  was  in  the  very  midst  of  his  gust  of  ill-timed 
merriment,  while  the  horses  were  nosing  niftily  at 
their  strange  surroundings,  and  the  hoof-strokes  of 
the  redcoat  troop  could  be  plainly  heard  on  the 
gravel  of  the  avenue,  that  I  chanced  to  lift  my  eyes 


A   LAWYER   HATH   HIS   FEE       533 

to  the  stair.  There,  looking  down  upon  us  with 
speechless  astoundment  in  the  blue-gray  eyes,  stood 
our  dear  lady. 

Another  instant  and  she  was  with  us,  stamping 
her  foot  and  crying:  "Mon  Dieu!  what  is  this? 
Are  you  gone  mad,  both  of  you  ?" 

Dick's  answer  was  another  burst  of  laughter,  loud 
enough,  you  would  think,  to  be  heard  by  those  be- 
yond the  door. 

"Behold  four  witless  brute  beasts,  Mistress 
Madge — two  horses  and  two  asses,"  he  said.  And 
then  to  old  Anthony:  "Open  the  door,  Tony,  and 
invite  the  gentlemen  in." 

But  Margery  was  before  him.  Ah,  my  dears,  a 
man's  wit  is  like  a  matchlock,  fizzing  and  sputtering' 
its  way  noisily  to  find  the  powder  whilst  the  enemy 
hath  time  to  ride  up  and  saber  the  musketeer;  but 
a  woman's  is  like  the  spark  in  a  tinder-box — a  quick 
snip  of  flint  and  steel  and  you  have  your  fire.  In  a 
flash  my  lady  had  torn  down  the  heavy  curtains 
from  an  inner  doorway  and  was  carpeting  a  horse 
path  for  us  to  the  rear. 

"Quick!"  she  cried;  "lead  them  gently,  for  the 
love  of  heaven!" 

She  went  before  us,  padding  tKe  way  with  what- 
ever came  first  to  hand,  rugs,  curtains,  table-cover- 
ings, and  I  know  not  what  besides ;  and  by  the  time 
the  British  troopers  were  hammering  at  the  outer 
door,  we  were  deep  within  the  old  mansion  and 
had  made  shift  to  drag  the  unwilling  horses  by  one 
and  two-step  descents  to  a  room  half  under  and  Half 


534       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

out  of  ground,  which  served  as  a  sort  of  ante- 
dungeon  to  the  wine  cellar. 

Here  I  thought  we  might  be  safe  for  the  moment, 
but  not  so  my  lady.  Calling  Dick  to  help  her — 
in  all  the  fierce  haste  of  it  I  marked  that  she  called 
to  Dick  and  not  to  me — she  unlocked  and  opened 
the  door  to  the  wine  vault,  and  in  a  trice  we  two 
and  the  luckless  horses  were  safely  jailed  in  pitchy 
darkness,  with  the  stout  oaken  door  slammed  be- 
hind us,  the  bolt  shot  in  the  lock,  and  the  key  with- 
drawn, as  we  could  see  by  the  spot  of  light  which 
came  through  the  keyhole. 

Richard  was  the  first  to  break  the  grave-like 
silence  of  our  dungeon. 

"Lord !"  said  he ;  "did  ever  you  see  such  sharp- wit 
work  in  all  your  adventures  ?  What  a  soldier's  wife 
she'd  make!" 

I  smiled  at  that,  being  safe  to  smile  in  the  dark- 
ness. For  was  she  not  a  soldier's  wife?  I  hugged 
that  saying  as  we  cling  to  the  thing  that  is  slipping 
from  us.  True,  I  was  here  to  give  her  freely  over 
to  another  and  a  better  soldier;  but  while  she  was 
mine  I  would  claim  her,  in  my  heart,  at  least. 

The  excitement  of  the  narrow  escape  somewhat 
overpast,  we  sat  long  on  the  edge  of  a  wine-bin, 
speculating  in  whispers  as  to  what  would  befall,  and 
listening  vainly  for  the  footsteps  which  would  fore- 
cast our  release  or  our  capture  by  the  enemy.  But 
when  no  sounds,  threatening  or  encouraging,  came 
from  the  upper  world,  we  groped  about  till  we 
found  the  cellar  candle,  lighted  it  with  flint  and 


A   LAWYER  HATH   HIS   FEE       535 

steel  and  tinder-box,  and  took  a  survey  of  our 
jail. 

'Twas  the  same  old  cavernous  wine  vault  of  my 
youthful  remembrance,  such  an  one  as  has  not  its 
mate  in  all  Carolina  to  this  good  day,  as  I  firmly 
believe.  My  father's  hobby  was  to  build  for  all 
eternity;  and  this  stone-arched  cellarage  was  more 
like  a  cathedral  crypt  than  a  store-room  for  a  coun- 
try gentleman's  table-stock  of  wines. 

Dick  held  the  candle  aloft  and  scanned  the  bottle 
racks,  none  so  greatly  depleted  as  they  might  have 
been,  had  any  hand  but  that  close-fisted  one  of  Gil- 
bert Stair's  taken  the  key  in  charge  after  my  father. 

"There  is  no  lack  of  potables,"  says  my  candle- 
bearer;  "but,  unhappily,  there  is  never  so  much 
as  a  dry  crust  to  soak  in  them.  And  as  for  the 
horses,  I'll  venture  they'd  give  it  all,  pint  for  pint, 
for  a  good  feeding  of  oats." 

"Truly,"  said  I ;  and  then  we  fell  to  stripping  the 
straw  casings  from  the  bottles  of  madeira  to  give 
the  poor  beasts  a  feed  of  rye-stalks  which  had  grown 
and  ripened  their  grain  many  a  year  before  either 
the  sorrel  or  the  gray  was  foaled. 

Having  no  time-measure  save  our  own  impatience, 
it  seemed  a  weary  while  before  we  heard  the  key 
rasping  in  the  lock  of  our  prison  door. 

"  'Tis  Madge,"  said  Dick,  with  a  true  lover's 
gift  of  second  sight ;  and  'twas  he  who  went  to  help 
her  swing  the  thick-slabbed  oak. 

What  passed  between  them  I  did  not  hear,  nor 
want  to  hear.  But  when  the  door  was  swung  to 


536       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

and  locked  again  I  knew  we  were  not  free  to  go 
abroad. 

Richard  came  back  to  me  in  the  inner  vault 
bearing  gifts ;  the  better  part  of  a  boiled  ham  with 
bread  to  match,  a  jug  of  water  from  the  well,  and 
more  candles. 

"We  are  not  to  starve,  but  that  is  our  best  news, 
thus  far,"  he  said.  "Of  all  the  houses  on  our  side 
of  the  river,  Lord  Cornwallis  must  needs  pitch  upon 
this  manor  of  Appleby  for  his  rallying  headquarters. 
Madge  can  not  guess  when  he  and  the  army  will  be 
gone,  and  she  is  frighted  stiff  for  our  sakes." 

This  was  sober  news,  indeed,  but  we  could  do 
naught  but  make  the  best  of  it.  As  for  me,  I  was 
most  anxious  to  know  if  the  good  priest  were  at 
Appleby,  and  what  of  my  chance  for  seeing  him; 
but  of  this  I  could  say  no  word  to  Richard. 

So,  when  we  had  done  full  justice  to  my  lady's 
bounty,  we  stowed  the  horses  in  the  deepest  of  the 
vaults  and  stripped  more  of  the  bottle  coverings  for 
them.  But  having  only  the  jug  of  water,  we  could 
do  no  more  than  swab  their  mouths  out  with'  a  wet- 
ted kerchief  in  lieu  of  giving  them  a  drink. 

When  all  was  done  we  sat  ourselves  down  to  wait 
as  we  must ;  and  when  the  silence  and  solitude  had 
wrought  their  perfect  work,  we  fell  to  talking  in 
low  tones  to  match  the  place  and  circumstance ;  and 
I  do  think  in  those  quiet  hours,  walled  in  as  we 
were  from  all  the  disturbments  of  the  outer  world, 
we  came  closer  than  we  had  come  for  many  months. 


A  LAWYER  HATH  HIS  FEE       537 

And  while  we  sat  and  talked  the  long  day  wore 
on  to  evening  and  a  storm  came  on,  as  we  could 
determine,  though  no  otherwise  than  by  the  muffled 
rolling  of  the  thunder  which,  since  we  could  not 
see  the  lightning  nor  hear  the  rain,  we  took  at  first 
for  the  booming  of  distant  cannon. 

I  can  not  tell  you  all  we  spoke  of  in  that  day-long 
immurement.  There  was  some  talk  of  the  great 
struggle  for  independence,  now,  though  we  knew  it 
not,  drawing  near  to  its  close ;  and  there  was  much 
of  reminiscence,  harking  back  to  the  exciting  and 
tragic  scenes  in  which  we  two  had  had  our  entrances 
and  our  exits.  Also,  there  was  a  tribute  paid  to  the 
memory  of  our  true  old  friend  and  trusted  comrade 
in  arms,  Ephraim  Yeates,  so  lately  gone  to  his  own 
place.  'Twas  at  this  time  I  learned  what  of  the 
old  man's  gifts  and  peculiarities  I  have  hereinbefore 
set  down;  for  Richard  had  known  him  long  and 
well. 

From  speaking  of  old  Ephraim  and  his  sudden 
taking-off  we  came  to  things  more  nearly  present ; 
and  at  length  Dick  would  lay  a  finger  gently  upon 
the  mystery  in  which  he  was  as  yet  walking  as  one 
blindfolded. 

"  Tis  not  a  shameful  thing ;  don't  tell  me  it  is 
that,  Jack,"  he  would  say;  and  I  gave  him  speedy 
assurance  upon  that  head. 

"No,  'tis  never  shameful ;  so  much  I  may  lay  an 
oath  to." 

"Yet  you  said  once — in  that  black  night  when  I 


538        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

went  mad  and  would  have  killed  you — that  your  life 
lay  between  Madge  and  me." 

"So  it  did — and  does.  And  God  will  bear  me  wit- 
ness, dear  lad,  that  I  have  worn  that  life  upon  my 
sleeve." 

"Nay,"  he  said,  very  gently ;  "you  need  not  go  so 
high  for  a  witness ;  have  I  not  seen  ?" 

We  fell  silent  upon  that,  and  there,  in  the  candle- 
yellowed  gloom  of  our  dungeon  harbor,  I  fought  the 
fellest  battle  of  my  life;  fought  it  and  won  it,  too, 
my  dears,  once  and  for  all.  There  was  a  cold  sweat 
on  my  brow  when  I  began  in  low  tones  to  tell  him 
the  story  of  that  fateful  night  in  June.  At  rising 
forty  'tis  no  light  thing  to  lose  a  friend — nay,  to 
turn  a  friend's  love  into  scorn  and  loathing  and  bit- 
ter hatred. 

He  heard  me  through  without  a  word ;  and  at  the 
end,  when  I  looked  to  see  him  spring  up  and  bid  me 
draw  and  let  him  have  his  one  poor  chance  for  satis- 
faction, he  still  sat  motionless,  winking  and  staring 
at  the  guttering  candle.  And  when  he  spoke  'twas 
with  a  quivering  of  the  lip  that  was  not  of  anger. 

"Dear  God,"  said  he;  "  'tis  I  who  stand  in  the 
way." 

"No ;  for  she  loves  you,  Richard,  as  dearly  as  she 
hates  me.  And  'tis  not  so  hopeless  now,  else  I  had 
never  screwed  together  the  courage  to  tell  you  all 
this.  She  has  at  last  consented  to  the  Church's  un- 
doing of  the  incomplete  marriage — 'twas  this  she 
wrote  me  about  when  we  were  at  the  Cowpens,  and 
'twas  her  letter  that  set  me  upon  going  to  Winns- 


A   LAWYER   HATH   HIS   FEE       539 

borough  to  see  the  priest.  I  missed  him  there,  as 
you  know;  but  I  am  here  now  by  her  own  appoint- 
ment to  meet  him  in  her  father's  house." 

He  shook  his  head  slowly.  "You've  killed  the 
hope  in  me,  Jack.  I  do  think  you  are  all  at  sea; 
'tis  you  she  loves — not  me." 

I  could  afford  to  smile  at  that. 

"If  you  could  see  how  she  has  ever  gone  about 
to  prove  that  she  did  not  love  me,  you  would  rest 
easy  on  that  score,  dear  lad." 

But  he  would  only  shake  his  head  again. 

"  'Twas  to  save  your  life  she  rode  in  on  us  that 
morning  under  the  oaks  in  the  glade." 

"  'Twas  a  womanly  horror  of  a  duel  and  blood- 
shed, more  belike,"  said  I. 

"But  she  has  saved  your  life  thrice  since  then,  as 
you  confess." 

"Yes;  from  a  strained  sense  of  wifely  duty,  as 
she  took  good  care  to  tell  me." 

"None  the  less — ah,  Jack,  you  do  not  know  her 
as  I  do;  she  would  never  have  consented  to  stand 
before  the  priest  with  you  had  there  not  been  some- 
thing warmer  than  hatred  in  her  heart." 

1  'Twas  a  bitter  necessity,  fairly  forced  upon  her. 
Tell  me ;  had  there  been  a  spark  of  love  for  me  in 
her  heart,  would  she  have  treated  me  as  the  dust 
beneath  her  feet  on  that  long  infaring  from  the 
western  mountains?  She  never  spoke  a  word  to 
me,  Dick,  in  all  those  weeks." 

"Which  may  prove  no  more  than  that  you  said 
or  did  something  to  cut  her  to  the  quick.  'Twould 


540       iTHE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

be  well  in  your  way,  Jack.  She  is  as  sensitive  as 
she  should  be,  and  you  are  blunter  than  I — which  is 
the  worst  I  could  say  of  you." 

"No,  no ;  you  are  far  beside  the  mark.  You  for- 
get that  the  breaking  of  the  marriage  is  of  her  own 
proposing — at  least,  I  should  say  I  only  hinted 
at  it." 

"There  may  be  two  sides  to  that,  as  well.  Have 
you  ever  told  her  that  you  love  her,  Jack?" 

"Surely  not !  I  have  been  all  kinds  of  a  poltroon 
in  this  matter,  as  I  have  confessed,  but  this  one  thing 
I  have  not  done." 

"Well,"  said  he,  speaking  slowly,  as  one  who 
thinks  the  path  out  word  by  word,  "what  if  she  be- 
lieves 'tis  you  who  want  your  freedom?  What  if 
you  have  made  her  that  bitterest  thing  in  all  the 
.world — a  woman  scorned  ?" 

I  would  not  listen  to  him  more. 

"This  is  all  the  merest  folly,  Richard,  as  I  will 
prove  to  you  beyond  the  question  of  a  doubt.  Do 
you  mind  that  little  interval  in  the  Cherokees'  tor- 
ture-play when  they  came  to  bind  us  afresh  for  the 
burning?" 

"I  mind  no  more  of  that  horror-night  than  I  can 
help." 

"Well,  in  that  hour,  when  death  was  waiting  for 
all  three  of  us,  she  wrote  a  little  farewell  note  to  the 
man  she  loved.  Twas  for  you,  Dick,  but  her  Indian 
messenger  blundered  and  gave  it  me." 

He  got  upon  his  feet  at  that  and  began  to  pace 
slowly  back  and  forth  under  the  gloomy  archings. 


A   LAWYER   HATH   HIS   FEE       541 

But  ere  long  he  paused  to  grasp  and  wring  my  hand 
most  lovingly,  saying,  "Who  am  I,  Jack,  to  buy  my 
happiness  at  such  a  price  ?" 

"Nay,  lad ;  'tis  neither  you  nor  I  wKo  should  figure 
greatly  in  the  matter ;  'tis  our  dear  lady.  She  must 
e'en  have  what  she  longs  for,  if  you,  or  I,  or  both 
of  us,  should  have  to  go  above  stairs  and  put  our 
necks  into  my  Lord  Cornwallis's  noose." 

"Now,  by  heaven,  Jack  Ireton,  'tis  you  who  are  the 
true  lover  and  the  gentleman ;  and  I  am  naught  but 
a  selfish  churl  with  my  face  in  my  own  trencher !" 
he  burst  out,  wringing  my  hand  yet  again.  "  Tis 
as  you  say ;  yet  I  will  not  be  driven  from  this ;  for 
aught  you  have  told  me  to  prove  it  otherwise,  Madge 
has  yet  to  choose  between  us,  and  she  shall  have  that 
choice,  fairly  and  squarely,  and  knowing  that  you 
love  her,  before  we  three  go  apart  again." 

I  smiled,  and  tried  hard  to  keep  the  heart-soreness 
out  of  my  reply. 

"As  for  that,  my  lad,  I  have  had  my  stirrup-cup 
long  since,  and  have  drained  it  to  the  dregs  with  a 
wry  face,  as  an  old  man  must  when  a  young  man 
brews  for  him.  But  if  the  priest — " 

Jennifer  had  resumed  his  pacing  sentry  beat,  and 
at  this  juncture  a  most  singular  thing  happened. 
Though  we  were  sealed  in,  as  I  have  said,  from  all 
the  outer  world  with  no  crack  nor  cranny  for  a 
peephole,  a  blinding  flasK  of  lightning,  blue  and 
ghastly,  came  suddenly  to  fill  the  whole  cellar  with 
its  vivid  glare. 


542        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"Good  Lord!"  says  Richard,  clapping  his  hands 
to  his  eyes ;  "where  did  that  come  from  ?" 

I  was  wholly  at  a  loss  for  a  moment.  Then  I 
remembered  that  there  was,  or  had  been  in  my  boy- 
hood days,  a  narrow,  iron-barred  window  in  the 
farther  end  of  the  wine  cellar,  opening  beneath  that 
other  window  of  the  great  south  room  where  I  had 
climbed  to  spy  upon  the  conspirators  on  the  night 
of  Captain  John  Stuart's  visit  to  Appleby.  So  it 
chanced  that  when  another  flash  came  I  was  looking 
straight  over  Dick's  head  at  the  place  in  the  farther 
arching  of  the  vault  where  the  little  window 
should  be. 

The  momentary  glare  showed  me  the  low  square 
of  the  window  opening,  and  framed  for  a  flitting 
instant  therein  a  face  of  most  devilish  malignity 
peering  in  upon  me  with  foxy-fierce  eyes;  the  face, 
to  wit,  of  Gilbert  Stair's  lawyer-factor. 

In  a  twinkling  the  vision  was  gone,  and  in  the 
space  between  the  flash  and  the  crash  there  was  a 
sound  as  of  a  wooden  shutter  slamming  in  place. 
Dick  heard  the  noise  without  knowing  the  cause  of 
it,  being  so  far  beneath  the  window  as  to  see  nothing 
but  the  lighting  of  the  glare. 

"What  was  that?"  he  demanded,  when  the  thun- 
der gave  him  leave. 

'  'Twas  our  trapper  clapping  the  shutter  on  the 
window  over  your  head,"  said  I.  "He  was  looking 
in  to  see  if  we  were  ripe  for  hanging." 

'  Tis  no  time  for  riddles ;  what  mean  you  ?" 

"I  mean  that  we  shall  have  a  file  of  redcoats 


A   LAWYER   HATH   HIS   FEE       $43 

down  upon  us  as  soon  as  ever  Mr.  Owen  Pengarvin 
can  give  the  alarm." 

"Oho !"  said  Dick ;  and  then  Tie  pulled  his  sword 
from  its  scabbard,  and  I  could  see  the  battle-veins 
swelling  in  his  forehead.  "They  can  hang  me  when 
I  am  too  dead  to  cut  and  thrust  more — not  sooner." 

I  got  me  up  and  went  to  find  the  sword  which  I 
had  laid  aside  in  the  horse-baiting.  'Twas  a  poor 
blade — one  of  our  captures  at  the  Cowpens ;  and 
when  I  tried  its  temper  it  snapped  in  my  hand. 

"Never  mind,"  said  I;  "give  me  the  broadsword 
scabbard  and  I  will  play  it  as  a  cudgel,  'tis  long 
enough  and  full  heavy  enough." 

He  laughed  and  clapped  me  on  the  shoulder, 
swearing  out  his  love  for  me  as  if  I  had  said  some- 
thing moving.  "You  are  every  inch  a  soldier,  Jack ; 
you  would  put  heart  into  a  worse  craven  than  I 
am  ever  like  to  be."  And  he  loosed  the  iron  scab- 
bard and  gave  it  me. 

Now  ensued  a  most  painful  time  of  waiting  and 
listening  for  the  tramp  of  our  takers.  We  posted 
us  nQar  the  door,  a  little  to  the  side,  so  that  its  in- 
swing  might  not  catch  us ;  and  so,  bracing  for  the 
onset,  we  waited  till  the  strain  of  suspense  grew  so 
great  that  we  both  started  like  frighted  children, 
when  finally  the  key  was  thrust  into  the  lock  and  the 
bolt  shot  back. 

But  when  the  heavy  door  gave  inward,  as  at  the 
pushing  of  a  weak  or  timid  hand,  we  saw  our  dear 
lady  standing  in  the  half  gloom  of  the  ante-dungeon, 
breathless  and  trembling  with  excitement. 


544       THE  MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

"Come !"  she  panted ;  "come  quickly — there  is  not 
an  instant  to  spare.  The  factor  has  betrayed  you ; 
he  will  be  here  directly  with  the  dragoons !" 

I  cut  in  swiftly.  "He  has  not  seen  Dick;  does 
he  know  we  are  both  here  ?" 

She  had  one  hand  on  her  heart  to  still  its  tumultu- 
ous beating,  and  the  other  held  behind  her,  and 
she  could  scarce  speak  more  for  her  eagerness  to 
have  us  out  and  away. 

"No;  it  was  you  he  saw;  and  my  father  heard 
Colonel  Tarleton  give  the  order.  Lieutenant  Tybee 
is  to  take  a  file  of  his  troopers  and  hang  without 
grace  the  man  he  will  find  hiding  in  the  wine  cel- 
lar; those  were  his  very  words.  Oh,  merciful 
heaven !  will  you  never  stir  ?" 

Richard  gave  a  low  whistle. 

"So  Tybee  has  come  alive  in  good  time  to  square 
the  old  account  with  us,"  he  would  say;  but  my 
wonder  was  greater  on  the  other  head.  "Your 
father  ?"  I  gasped.  "And  he  sent  you  to  save  me  ?" 

"Surely,"  she  said.  "Are  you  not  once  again 
his  guest,  Captain  Ireton  ?"  Then  she  stamped  her 
foot,  and  though  the  candle-light  was  of  the  poorest, 
I  could  see  her  eyes  flash.  "Will  you  squander  the 
last  moment  in  silly  questions?"  she  burst  out. 
"Come,  I  say!" 

I  smiled.  "Give  me  that  sword  you  are  hiding 
behind  you  and  I  will  keep  the  door  whilst  you 
spirit  Dick  away.  He  is  not  to  be  in  this." 

She  gave  me  the  weapon,  though  not,  as  I  made 
sure,  in  any  consenting  to  my  proposal.  I  could 


A  LAWYER  HATH  HIS  FEE       545 

have  cried  out  in  sheer  joy  when  I  found  the  sword 
to  be  my  own  good  blade  of  proof — the  ancient 
Ferara  willed  me  by  my  father. 

Sharp  as  the  crisis  was,  I  make  no  doubt  I  should 
have  asked  her  then  and  there  how  she  came  by  the 
blade  I  had  last  seen  when  my  Lord  Cornwallis 
tried  to  break  it  over  his  knee;  but  the  march  of 
events  suddenly  became  too  swift  for  me.  There 
was  a  sound  of  cautious  footsteps  in  the  inclined 
passage  leading  from  the  butler's  pantry  above,  and 
our  chance  for  escape  that  way  was  gone. 

"Too  late!"  said  Dick;  and  with  an  arm  about 
Margery  he  whipped  behind  the  great  oaken  door 
opened  back  against  the  cellar  wall,  whispering  me 
to  follow. 

We  were  scarce  in  hiding,  with  the  door  well 
drawn  back  to  screen  us,  when  the  cautious  foot- 
steps came  slowly  into  the  out-cellar.  Peeping 
through  the  crack  behind  the  door  we  saw  Pen- 
garvin — alone. 

What  brought  him  there  without  his  tale  of 
armed  men  at  his  back  no  man  will  ever  know; 
but  since  his  ways  were  always  crooked  and  de- 
vious, I  guessed  he  would  not  wish  to  appear  in  the 
matter  in  his  own  proper  person,  and  yet  could  not 
deny  himself  a  'forehand  peep  to  see  if  the  trap 
were  still  safe  shut  and  secure. 

'Twas  evident  he  was  much  disconcerted  at  find- 
ing the  door  open  and  the  wine  vault  apparently 
empty.  At  first  he  would  start  and  dodge  as  if  to 
run  away ;  then  his  rage  got  the  better  of  his  caution 


546        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

and  he  had  one  of  those  senseless  cursing  fits  I  have 
before  told  you  of,  raving  and  swearing  and  prom- 
ising all  manner  of  fiendish  recompense  to  Mistress 
Margery  when  he  should  have  her  in  his  power. 

A  little  longer  dwelling  upon  this  variation  of  the 
cursing  theme — ravings  in  which  Dick  learned  for 
the  first  time  of  the  factor's  design  to  marry  my 
widow  and  the  estate — and  I  do  think  the  lad  would 
have  gone  out  to  make  him  sing  another  tune.  But 
now  the  factor  left  off  suddenly  to  cock  his  ear  and 
listen,  and  afterward  to  come  tiptoeing  into  the  cel- 
lar, all  eyes  to  spy  and  legs  to  run  if  a  mouse  should 
but  squeak  at  him. 

He  was  muttering  to  himself  as  he  passed  our 
hiding  place. 

"By  all  the  devils,  he  must  be  here,  some  gait. 
The  little  jade  would  have  warned  him  if  she  had 
known;  but  it  is  known  only  to  the  doddering  old 
miser  and  me,  and  the  girl  is  safe  in  her  bed-room. 
Happen  this  devil  of  an  Austrian  captain  has 
drunken  himself  sodden;  ah,  that  would  be  a  rare 
jest — to  wake  with  the  rope  around  his  neck !  If 
those  cursed,  slow-footed  dragoons  would  but  come ! 
Damme!  I'll  have  that  bull-necked  lieutenant  cash- 
iered if  his  high  and  mighty  loitering  balks  me  in 
this." 

He  stopped  before  the  wine  cask  whereon  the 
flickering  candle  stood  and  craned  his  neck  to  look 
beyond  it.  The  candle  was  guttering  smokily,  and 
he  reached  a  shaking  thumb  and  finger  to  pluck  the 


;  A   LAWYER   HATH    HIS   FEE       547 

"dead  man"  from  the  wick.  At  that  we  heard  him 
muttering  again. 

"  'Twas  a  play  to  make  the  very  devil  envious ; 
and  to  have  it  marred  by  that  pig  of  a  lieutenant! 
No  one  knew  me  in  it  save  the  legion  colonel,  and 
could  we  have  sprung  the  trap  fair  and  softly,  not 
even  Mistress  Margery  herself  could  have  laid  this 
swashbuckler's  death  at  my  door.  But  now  he's 
gone — vanished  like  a  straw  bailee,  and  all  because 
that  damned  understrapper  of  Colonel  Tarleton's 
must  needs  turn  up  his  nose  at  a  bit  of  sheriff's 
work.  Curse  him !" 

The  candle  was  burning  brightly  now,  and  he 
crept  catlike  around  the  cask  to  peer  into  the  bin 
beyond  it.  Just  then  the  shutter  to  the  little  window 
of  espial  fell  open  with  a  shrill  creaking  of  its  rusty 
hinges,  and  a  blue  glare  of  lightning  came  to  prick 
out  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  cellar.  Being 
almost  within  a  blade's  length  of  the  factor,  I  saw 
him  plainly ;  saw  him  start  back  and  put  his  hands 
to  his  face  and  drop  down  all  of  a  tremble  on  the 
bin's  edge,  where  I  had  been  sitting  when  he  dis- 
covered me. 

To  second  the  flash  a  prolonged  drum-roll  of 
thunder  dinned  upon  the  still  air  of  the  vault,  and 
mingled  with  the  thunder  came  other  flashes,  sear- 
ing the  eye  and  making  the  candle  flame  appear  as 
a  sickly  orange  halo  in  the  blue-white  glare.  What 
with  the  play  of  the  storm  artillery  we  could  neither 
see  nor  hear  for  the  moment;  but  when  the  candle- 


548       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

light  came  to  its  own  again  the  scene  had  changed 
as  if  by  magic.  Under  cover  of  the  thunder  din 
a  squad  of  dragoons  had  come  to  ring  the  factor  in 
where  he  sat  upon  the  edge  of  the  wine  bin. 

"So-ho !"  said  my  good  friend  Tybee,  with  a  little 
strident  laugh,  "  'tis  you  I  am  to  take  out  and  hang, 
is  it,  Master  Lawyer?  I  thought  mayhap  you'd 
double  on  your  track  once  too  often,  and  so  it 
seems  you  have.  Up  with  you  and  come  along." 

All  in  a  flash  Pengarvin  was  up  and  bursting  out 
in  a  trembling  frenzy-fit  of  protestation. 

"OK,  'tis  all  a  mistake,  my  good  sir — a  devil's 
own  trap !  I — I  am  not  the  man ;  I  pledge  you  my 
sacred  word !  I — hands  off,  you  cursed  villains,  or 
I'll  have  the  law  on  you !"  this  last  when  one  of  the 
men  cast  the  noose  of  a  rope  over  his  head  whilst 
a  second  drew  his  arms  to  his  sides  in  the  looping 
of  another  cord.  "By  God !  you  shall  all  smart  for 
this ;  all,  I  say !  Take  me  to  Colonel  Tarleton.  The 
king  has  no  stancher  friend  in  all  the  province 
than  I.  Why,  damme,  'twas  I  who — " 

A  trooper  came  behind  and  gagged  him  with  the 
loose  end  of  the  rope;  and  Tybee  held  the  candle 
to  light  the  knotting  of  it.  And  so  they  marched 
him  out,  with  Tybee  muttering  between  his  teeth 
that  it  was  rat-catcher's  work,  and  no  soldier's, 
this  killing  of  vermin,  and  bidding  his  men  make 
haste. 


HOW    RICHARD    COVERDALE  S    DEBT    WAS    PAID 

For  some  breathless  moments  after  we  three  were 
left  alone  in  the  Stygian  darkness  of  the  wine  cellar, 
no  word  was  spoken.  TKe  rolling  of  the  thunder 
drum  was  muffled  now,  as  it  were  booming  out  the 
dirge  of  the  man  who  had  digged  a  pit  and  had 
himself  fallen  therein ;  and  the  lightning  flashes 
coming  at  longer  intervals  served  but  to  intensify 
the  gloom  they  lit  up  for  the  instant. 

It  was  a  minced  oath  from  Richard  that  first 
broke  the  spell  that  bound  us. 

"  'Twas  too  much  for  Madge,"  said  he,  "she  has 
fainted.  Swing  the  door,  and  light  another  candle." 

I  did  both  as  quickly  as  might  be,  and  we  bedded 
her  on  the  floor,  stripping  our  coats  to  soften  the 
stone  flagging  for  her  and  trying  by  all  the  means 
known  to  two  unskilled  soldier  leeches  to  bring 
her  to. 

"Water !"  said  Dick ;  but  when  we  had  laved  her 
face  with  that,  and  with  wine  as  well,  without  effect, 
we  were  well  dismayed,  I  do  assure  you.  For  all 
549 


550 

our  efforts  she  lay  as  one  dead;  and  neither  of  us 
could  be  cold  enough  to  pry  her  lips  apart  to  play 
the  drenching  doctor  with  the  wine. 

"Lord !"  cried  Dick,  the  sweat  standing  out  upon 
his  face  in  great  drops ;  "this  is  terrible !  What  shall 
we  do?" 

"Jeanne  will  know  what  to  do,"  I  asserted.  "We 
must  get  her  out  of  this  and  up  to  her  chamber." 

Richard  started  to  his  feet  and  stooped  to  gather 
the  dear  body  of  her  in  his  arms.  But  in  the  act 
he  paused  and  straightened  himself  to  look  fixedly 
at  me. 

"Do  you  take  her,  Jack;  she  is — she  is — your 
wife." 

"Nay,"  said  I,  drawing  back.  "You  are  her  own 
true  lover ;  and  could  she  choose  her  bearer — " 

"A  murrain  on  your  finickings !"  he  burst  out. 
"She  may  die  whilst  we  are  haggling  over  the  right 
to  help  her.  Take  her  up  quick,  man,  and  be- 
gone !" 

"But  bethink  you,  Dick,"  I  urged;  "if  you  are 
taken,  you  have  one  chance  in  ten  of  faring  as  an 
officer  and  a  prisoner  of  war.  For  me  'tis  a  spy's 
death  as  swift  as  they  can  drag  me  to  it." 

Now  you  will  know,  my  dears,  how  much  I  loved 
these  two  when  I  could  twist  a  cord  of  such  mean 
fiber  to  bind  them  closer  together.  Richard's  eyes 
flashed  and  his  lip  curled. 

"Overlook  it  in  me,  if  you  can,"  he  said,  with  fine 
scorn.  "I  had  not  thought  upon  the  peril  of  it." 
And  with  that  he  took  her  in  his  arms  as  she  had 


RICHARD'S   DEBT   WAS   PAID      551 

been  a  child  to  be  carried,  and  I  swung  the  door  for 
him.  But  on  the  threshold  he  gave  me  back  my 
sorry  little  subterfuge.  "Once  more,  your  forgive- 
ness, Jack.  I  knew  well  you  were  but  lying  to  give 
me  precedence.  Can  you  trust  me  with  her?" 

"Aye,  dear  lad ;  now  and  ever,"  said  I ;  and  so  I 
pushed  him  out  and  closed  the  door. 

I  made  shift  to  lead  the  horses  through  the  narrow 
passage  and  out  by  a  rear  door,  giving  them  a 
friendly  slap  to  point  them  toward  the  stables. 

I  know  not  how  long  it  was  that  I  paced  a  weary 
sentry  beat  up  and  down  the  narrow  limits  of  the 
wine  cellar,  alone  with  such  thoughts  as  go  to 
make  the  sum  of  that  despair  which  follows  hard 
upon  the  heels  of  some  climaxing  catastrophe.  But 
I  do  know  that,  as  the  hours  dragged  on  leaden- 
shod,  a  slow  fever  of  impatience  came  to  dry  the 
blood  in  my  veins;  to  make  me  hunger  and  thirst 
for  leave  to  say  the  final  word  to  Father  Matthieu, 
and  so  to  be  set  at  liberty  to  find  the  bottom  of  the 
pit  into  which  a  mocking  fate  had  plunged  me. 

'Twas  all  over  now.  My  dear  lad  was  told,  and 
he  had  forgiven  me ;  the  persecuting,  plotting  factor 
was  effaced,  and  he  could  never  trouble  my  sweet 
lady  more.  Between  the  two  I  loved  there  stood 
only  the  shadow  of  the  marriage,  and  this  the  good 
priest  would  presently  help  me  to  dispel. 

And  after  that  ...  I  dared  not  look  be- 
yond. There  is  a  way  beset  with  lions,  and  any 
man  who  bears  the  name  of  man  in  honor  may  draw 
his  sword  and  fix  his  eye  upon  the  goal  and  hew 


552       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

his  path  to  it,  joying  in  the  conflict.  But  there  is 
also  another  way,  a  desert  trail  owning  no  peril  more 
affrighting  than  its  own  dread  waste  and  limitless 
monotony;  and  when  his  eyes  behold  the  dismal 
prospect,  and  his  feet  have  pressed  the  hitherward 
sands  of  this  desert  of  despair,  a  man  may  well 
pause  to  gird  his  loins,  to  cross  himself  and  patter 
such  a  prayer  for  strength  and  fortitude  as  his  creed 
hath  taught  him. 

To  such  a  faring  through  all  the  days  and  nights 
of  this  grim  desert  of  a  future  these  lonely  hours  in 
the  wine  vault  were  a  fitting  vigil,  as  I  conceived ; 
and  when  I  had  hugged  my  misery  close,  and  a  sort 
of  monstrous  self-pity  had  come  to  make  a  seeming 
virtue  of  the  hard  necessity,  I  was  best  pleased  to 
be  alone.  In  such  a  frame  of  mind  the  sound  of 
footsteps  in  the  out-cellar,  warning  me  that  more 
company  was  coming,  sent  a  wave  of  sullen  anger 
to  submerge  me,  and  I  do  think  'twas  in  me  to 
turn  my  back  upon  a  friend  who  should  come  to 
tell  me  I  was  free  to  go  at  large. 

Since  I  had  led  forth  the  good  horses  the  great 
oaken  door  had  stood  ajar.  So  I  wondered  why 
my  visitor  made  so  much  ado  rattling  the  key  in 
the  lock.  Then  it  came  to  me  suddenly  that  the 
noise  and  delay  were  meant  to  give  me  timely  warn- 
ing; and  at  the  scent  of  threatening  peril — a  peril 
I  might  cope  with  and  grapple  soldierwise — I  be- 
came a  man  again.  A  sweep  of  my  hat  sent  the 
sputtering  candle  flying  from  its  barrel  head  to  the 


RICHARD'S  DEBT  WAS   PAID      553 

farther  corner  of  the  vault,  and  I  dropped  quickly 
behind  a  row  of  empty  wine-butts  to  await  what 
should  befall. 

Had  she  been  a  ghost,  Mistress  Margery  would 
scarce  have  startled  me  more  when  she  swung  the 
door  to  let  me  see  her.  She  was  gowned  in  her 
best;  there  was  a  heightened  color  in  her  cheek; 
her  eyes  were  like  stars.  Truly,  I  do  think  I  never 
saw  her  so  beautiful  as  she  appeared  at  that 
moment,  standing  under  the  massive  arch  of  the 
doorway  with  her  candle  held  high  to  light  the 
inner  gloom. 

"This  way,  Scipio,"  she  said,  tripping  ahead  of 
the  mulatto  to  point  out  the  madeira  bin.  "We  shall 
give  my  Lord  and  his  gentlemen  the  best  the  Ap- 
pleby  cellar  holds  to  speed  their  parting."  Where- 
with she  stood  aside  to  wait  whilst  he  filled  his 
basket  with  the  straw-cased  bottles. 

At  this  I  saw  why  she  had  come.  Lord  Cornwal- 
lis  and  his  gentlemen  were  about  to  take  the  road, 
and  the  wine  was  wanted  for  the  stirrup-cup.  Trust- 
ing my  fate  to  no  hand  less  loyal  than  her  own,  she 
had  come  herself  with  Scipio  to  stand  betwixt  me 
and  possible  discovery.  And  her  word  to  the  serv- 
ing man  was  also  a  word  to  me  to  let  me  know 
my  prisonment  was  near  an  end. 

I  thought  it  a  most  generous  thing  in  her;  the 
last  of  all  her  many  wifely  loyalties;  and  I  would 
have  given  much  for  leave  to  stand  forth  and  tell 
her  so.  Indeed,  when  the  mulatto  had  poised  his 


554       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

basket  upon  his  head  and  vanished,  and  she  was 
lingering  to  take  a  last  look  around  before  she  fol- 
lowed him,  I  was  upon  the  point  of  speaking. 

But  whilst  I  hesitated  I  saw  her  start  back  with 
a  little  cry  of  terror.  Standing  in  the  arched  door- 
way through  which  the  mulatto  had  but  now  passed 
was  a  man  cloaked,  hatted,  booted  and  spurred  as 
for  the  road.  At  her  cry  he  doffed  his  hat  and  .  .  . 

My  dears,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  draw  for  you 
the  hideous  death-mask  this  man  was  wearing  for 
a  face.  Seamed  and  scarred,  shriveled  and  livid  in 
purple  and  crimson  welts,  you  would  think  a  nine- 
thonged  whip  of  fire  had  scourged  out  every  sem- 
blance of  comeliness,  leaving  only  the  skeleton  frame 
on  which  to  hang  this  ghastly  caricature  of  a  hu- 
man face.  Fearing  him  not  at  all,  I  could  scarce 
forbear  a  shudder  at  the  sight  of  this  walking  death- 
mask  of  the  libertine,  Sir  Francis  Falconnet 

And  if  his  face  were  terrifying  in  repose,  'twas 
fair  demoniac  when  he  laughed. 

"Ha!"  he  said,  bowing  again  in  a  mockery  of 
politeness.  "You  are  surprised,  Mistress  Margery; 
you  heard  my  Lord's  order  and  thought  I  would  be 
by  now  some  miles  on  the  road  to  Salisbury  ?" 

"If  you  were  the  loyal  soldier  you  should  be, 
sir,"  she  said,  drawing  herself  up  proudly,  "you 
would  be  at  the  head  of  your  troop,  as  his  Lordship 
directed."  And  then,  with  a  gesture  that  was  most 
queenly:  "Stand  aside,  Sir — Libertine,  and  let  me 
pass." 

His  answer  was  another  mocking  laugh,  and  he 


RICHARD'S    DEBT   WAS    PAID       555 

stepped  within  to  close  the  door  and  lock  it.  When 
he  turned  to  front  her  again  his  face  was  the  face 
of  a  tormented  devil. 

"By  God!  you  think  too  lightly  of  me,  Mistress 
Margery.  Before  ever  this  day  dawned  I  owed  you 
much,  but  like  a  spiteful  little  hellicat  you  must 
needs  add  to  the  score  by  making  me  a  target  for 
your  wit  at  the  supper-table.  'Twill  cost  a  life  to 
more  than  one  of  them  who  laughed  with  you,  my 
lady,  but  'twill  cost  you  dearer  still." 

He  came  nearer  as  he  spoke,  thrusting  that  hor- 
rible face  farther  into  the  circle  of  candle-light; 
but  she  would  not  draw  back  nor  flinch  a  hair,  and 
I  marked  that  the  hand  that  held  the  candlestick 
was  as  steady  as  a  rock.  But  when  he  made  an 
end  she  flung  a  quick  glance  over  her  shoulder  and 
my  heart  leaped  for  joy.  For  then  I  knew  she  was 
leaning  upon  me. 

"Once  more,  Captain  Falconnet,  will  you  let  me 
pass  ?"  she  said. 

"No!"  he  snarled,  adding  a  horrid  blasphemy. 
'  'Twas  passion  in  me  once,  and  I  am  none  so  sure 
there  was  not  a  time  when  you  could  have  cooled 
it  into  love.  But  now  'tis  hatred  and  revenge." 
He  snapped  his  fingers  in  her  face.  "The  thing 
they'll  find  here  in  the  morning — " 

He  fell  face  downward  at  her  feet  and  I  set  my 
heel  in  the  small  of  his  back  to  hold  him  whilst  I 
could  drive  the  point  of  the  Ferara  between  his 
ribs.  But  my  dear  lady  would  not  have  it  so. 

"No,  no !  for  the  love  of  heaven,  not  that,  Mon- 


556       THE   MASTER  OF.  APPLEBY 

sieur  John !"  she  cried ;  and  for  the  moment  her  fine 
courage  was  all  swallowed  up  of  pity  and  she  be- 
came a  compassionate  woman  pleading  for  a  life. 

But  now  my  blood  was  up.  "You  are  my  wife," 
I  said,  coldly.  "If  he  had  a  dozen  lives  I  should 
take  them  all  for  that  which  he  said  to  you." 

"But  not  that  way — oh,  not  that  way,  I  do  be- 
seech you!"  she  begged.  "Think  of  what  it  will 
mean  to  you — and — and  to  me.  For  your  own  sake, 
Monsieur  John." 

I  took  my  heel  from  the  man's  back. 

"Your  wish  is  law  to  me,  dear  lady.  But  your 
way  is  clear  now ;  you  may  go." 

She  took  a  step  toward  the  door. 

"You  will  not  kill  him  when  I  am  gone,  Monsieur 
John?" 

"By  the  name  he  bears  he  was  doubtless  born  a 
gentlemen ;  since  you  wish  it,  he  shall  die  like  one." 

I  saw  she  did  not  take  my  meaning;  that  when 
she  was  gone  I  should  let  him  have  his  chance  to 
die  sword  in  hand. 

"Remember,  I  have  your  promise,"  she  said,  turn- 
ing to  go.  "The  army  is  on  the  march  for  Salisbury, 
and  in  a  little  while  your  friends  will  be  here  to — " 

The  sentence  ended  in  a  very  womanly  shriek  of 
terror.  Watching  his  chance,  my  dastard  enemy 
had  bounded  to  his  feet  to  make  a  quick  lunge,  not 
at  me,  but  at  her. 

Of  course  I  came  between  to  parry  the  murder- 
ous thrust,  and  after  that  it  was  life  for  one  of  us 
and  death  for  the  other.  I  looked  to  see  my  lady 


RICHARD'S   DEBT   WAS   PAID      557 

run,  shrieking;  indeed,  I  called  to  her  to  go;  but 
she  stood  fast  as  if  her  terror  had  frozen  her;  and 
so  it  was  her  candle  that  lighted  the  grim  vault  for 
the  duel.  , 

As  you  will  know  full  well,  I  was  not  minded  to 
give  this  thrice-accursed  fiend  more  than  the  gentle- 
man's chance  I  had  promised  to  give  him.  But 
now,  as  twice  before,  he  fought  most  desperately, 
trying  by  every  trick  of  fence  to  come  between  me 
and  the  silent  little  figure  holding  the  candle  aloft. 
As  I  have  often  said,  he  was  a  pretty  swordsman, 
and  at  this  crisis,  with  life  at  stake,  and  all  the  fury 
of  the  seven  devils  of  disappointed  vengeance  to 
nerve  his  arm,  his  sword  play  was  most  masterly.  , 

Yet  twice  in  his  stamping  rushes  I  found  my 
opening;  once  the  Ferara's  point  passed  his  blade, 
and  but  for  the  ringed  guard  of  the  German  long- 
sword  that  stopped  it  when  his  parry  failed,  the 
steel  would  have  passed  through  him.  After  this 
he  grew  warier,  having  in  mind,  as  I  supposed,  that 
other  time  when  I  had  shown  him  that  my  wrist 
and  arm  could  outweary  his.  Yet  his  savage  onset 
never  flagged  for  an  instant;  and  when  the  light 
fell  upon  his  hideous  face,  I  could  see  the  fierce  eyes 
glinting  like  a  basilisk's,  with  no  sign  in  them  that 
my  time  was  come  to  press  him  home. 

None  the  less,  I  did  press  him,  inch  by  inch,  driv-1 
ing  him  at  each  new  clash  of  the  steel  a  little  deeper 
into  the  gloom  that  crowded  close  upon  the  narrow 
circle  of  candle-light.    He  saw  my  object — to  push 
him  to  unfamiliar  ground  where  he  might  trip  and 


558       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

stumble  in  the  darkness — and  he  strove  furiously 
to  defeat  it.  Yet  he  had  no  choice,  and  presently 
I  had  him  among  the  empty  wine-butts,  foining  and 
parrying  for  his  life  and  pouring  out  such  blas- 
phemies as  would  make  your  blood  run  cold. 

Here  the  end  came  quickly.  Being  entangled 
among  the  broached  butts  he  had  no  room  to  play 
skilfully.  So  presently  it  chanced  that  he  caught 
his  point  in  the  chine  of  a  cask  and  his  blade  snapped 
short  at  the  hilt.  With  a  yelling  oath,  hissing  hot 
from  the  devil's  thumb-book,  he  snatched  up  the 
broken  blade  to  fling  and  stick  it  javelin- wise  in  my 
shoulder ;  and  then  I  saw  the  dull  gleam  of  the  can- 
dle-light on  the  barrel  of  a  pistol. 

Had  he  aimed  the  pistol  at  me,  I  trust  I  should 
still  have  given  him  his  gentleman's  chance.  But 
when  I  saw  him  level  the  weapon  at  my  dear 
lady  .  .  .  they  came  in  one  and  the  same  heart- 
beat; the  sword-thrust  that  found  his  life  and  took 
it ;  the  crash  of  the  pistol-shot  echoing  like  a  clap  of 
thunder  in  the  close  vault,  and  pitchy  darkness  to 
draw  its  curtain  over  all. 

I  know  not  how  I  reached  her,  pulling  the  broken 
sword-blade  from  my  shoulder  as  I  ran;  nor  can 
I  tell  you  how  an  upgushing  spring  of  thankfulness 
choked  me  when  I  found  her  unharmed  by  the  bullet 
which  had  snuffed  the  candle  out. 

She  was  in  a  most  piteous  state,  now  it  was  all 
over ;  and  though  I  charged  it  all  where  I  supposed  it 
should  belong — to  the  account  of  a  natural  womanly 


RICHARD'S   DEBT   WAS    PAID       559 

passion  to  cling  to  something  in  her  moment  of 
weakness — yet  the  blood  ran  quick  in  my  veins  when 
she  suffered  me  to  lead  her  out  of  that  dismal, 
smoking  death-pit,  she  clinging  to  me  the  while 
so  close  that  I  could  feel  the  warmth  of  her  and  the 
fluttering  of  her  dear  heart  beneath  my  hand. 

She  said  no  word,  nor  did  I,  till  we  were  come 
above  stairs.  We  found  the  rooms  on  the  main 
floor  deserted  by  all  save  the  blacks,  who  were  clear- 
ing away  the  debris  of  the  feast  of  leave-taking. 
In  the  hall  we  came  upon  old  Anthony,  putting  on 
the  chain  of  the  outer  door.  Here  my  lady  drew 
apart  from  me. 

"Is  my  Lord  gone  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yis,  Missa.  He  say  tell  yo'  he  gwine  tek  it 
mighty  hawd  yo'  no  come  ter  gib  him  de  sti'up- 
cup." 

"And  my  father?" 

"Gone  to  de  lib'ry  to  wait  fo'  Massa  Pengarbin; 
yis,  Missa." 

She  turned  away,  shuddering  at  this  mention  of 
the  factor  for  whose  coming  the  master  would  wait 
long  and  in  vain,  and  I  heard  her  murmur:  "Oh, 
the  horror  of  this  night!"  But  in  a  moment  she 
came  back  to  me,  and  was  her  cool,  calm  self  again. 

"For  that  I  am  here,  alive  and  well,  I  thank  you, 
Captain  Ireton.  Need  I  say  more?" 

I  can  not  tell  you  what  was  in  the  words  to  make 
me  hot  with  anger,  as  I  had  but  now  been  hot  with' 
love.  But  the  new  wound  in  my  shoulder  was 


560       THE   MASTER  OF,  APPLEBYs 

bleeding  freely,  and  I  would  not  let  her  see  I  was 
hurt;  and  if  aught  will  stanch  a  wound,  'tis  an- 
ger. 

"You  need  not  say  so  much,"  I  retorted,  bowing 
low.  "You  have  spoken  now  and  then  of  certain 
duties  binding  upon  those  who  are  knotted  up,  ever 
so  loosely,  in  the  marriage  bond ;  I  have  my  part  in 
these  as  well  as  you,  Mistress  Margery." 

She  bit  her  lip  and  was  upon  the  edge  of  tears. 
I  saw  what  I  had  done  and  would  curse  the  master- 
less  tongue  that  must  needs  add  its  word-thong  to 
the  night's  whip  of  scourgings. 

When  she  spoke  again  it  was  to  say:  "This  is 
your  own  house,  Captain  Ireton ;  what  will  you  do?" 

"One  question  first,  is  Richard  Jennifer  safe?" 

"He  is." 

"Then,  by  your  good  leave,  I  shall  do  what  I 
came  to  do." 

She  bent  her  head  in  acquiescence. 

"You  will  find  the — the  person  whom  you  wish 
to  see  in  your  old  room  in  the  north  gable.  Shall 
I  have  Anthony  light  you  up  ?" 

"No ;  I  can  find  the  way." 

My  hand  was  on  the  stair  rail  when  the  cruel 
irony  of  it  struck  me  like  a  blow.  She  had  planned 
the  loosing  of  the  bond  in  the  very  room  where  we 
had  knelt  to  take  the  good  father's  blessing  upon  it. 

I  stepped  back,  stumbled,  I  should  say,  for  a 
curious  weakness  had  come  upon  me,  and  drew  her 
arm  in  mine. 

"We  will  go  together,  if  you  please,  my  lady. 


RICHARD'S   DEBT  WAS   PAID      561 

Tis  only  just  to  me  that  you  should  hear  what  I 
must  say  to  Father  Matthieu." 

And  so,  dear  heart !  she  bore  with  me  to  the 
last ;  and  together  we  climbed  the  stair  to  come  into 
the  upper  corridor  with  the  room  of  destiny  at  its 
farther  end. 

We  came  as  far  as  the  door ;  I  mind  it  perfectly, 
for  I  remember  marking  that  the  wooden  bar  my 
father  had  put  upon  it  was  gone,  and  the  iron 
brackets  as  well.  But  whilst  I  was  groping  for  the 
latch  there  came  a  taste  of  blood  in  my  mouth,  and 
I  heard  my  dear  lady's  voice  as  if  she  were  calling 
to  me  across  the  eternal  abysses.  "Monsieur  John ! 
— you  are  hurt!"  And  then,  from  a  still  remoter 
distance:  "Oh,  Father  Matthieu — Dick!  come 
quickly !  He  is  dying !" 


LI 

IN   WHICH   THE  GOOD   CAUSE  GAINS  A   CONVERT 

Which  one  of  you,  my  dears,  faring  across  the 
frontier  of  the  shadow  land  of  dreams  into  the  no 
less  mysterious  country  of  the  real,  can  not  recall 
the  struggle  of  the  waking  senses  to  knot  up  the 
gossamer  filament  of  the  night's  fantasies  with  the 
coarser  web  of  reality  ? 

For  a  time,  longer  or  shorter  as  the  dream  thread 
holds,  the  vagaries  of  the  night  are  shuttled  into  the 
warp  of  life.  But  presently  comes  the  master- 
weaver  Reason  to  point  out  this  or  that  fantastic 
pattern ;  to  bid  the  ear  listen  to  the  measured  clack- 
ing of  the  day-loom,  and  the  eye  to  mark  that  the 
web  of  reality  has  grown  never  an  inch  for  all  the 
shuttlings  of  the  sleeping-time.  Whereupon,  full- 
blood  consciousness  regains  her  sway,  and  you  sigh, 
gladly  or  sorrowfully,  and  say,  "Dear  God,  'twas 
but  a  dream  I  dreamed !" 

Some  such  awakening  came  to  me  on  a  day 
whereof  I  knew  not  the  name  or  its  number  in  the 
calendar. 

I  was  lying  in  bed  in  my  old  room  at  Appleby 
Hundred.  The  armored  soldier  was  glowering 
562 


THE   CAUSE   GAINS   A   CONVERT    563 

down  upon  me  from  his  frame  over  the  chimney 
piece;  the  great  blackened  clothes-press  loomed 
darkly  in  its  corner;  the  show  of  curious  china 
filled  the  shelves  where  my  boyhood  books  had 
rested;  and  there  was  the  same  faint  smell  of 
lavender  in  the  bed  linen  that  once — was  it  yester- 
day or  months  ago  ? — had  minded  me  of  my  mother. 

When  I  sought  to  move  me  on  the  pillows  the 
dream  seemed  more  than  ever  dream-sure.  The 
pain  of  a  sword  wound  was  grinding  at  my  shoul- 
der, and  I  was  bandaged  stiff  as  I  had  been  that 
other  day. 

So  I  said,  as  you  have  said  in  like  awakenings, 
"Dear  God,  'twas  but  a  dream!"  and  saying  it, 
would  turn  my  head  to  see  if  Mistress  Margery 
were  sitting  where  I  last  remembered  her. 

She  was  there,  in  very  deed  and  truth,  deep  in 
the  hollow  of  the  great  chair  of  Indian  wickerwork ; 
and  as  before,  the  soft  graying  of  the  evening  sky 
was  mirrored  in  her  eyes. 

I  sighed,  and  there  was  a  catching  of  the  breath 
at  the  bottom  of  it.  Truly,  the  wondrous  dream  had 
had  its  agonies,  but  there  were  also  beatitudes  to 
tip  the  scale  the  other  way.  For  I  had  dreamed 
this  sweet-faced  watcher  was  my  wife — in  name,  at 
least. 

'Twas  while  I  looked,  minding  not  the  eye-ache 
the  effort  cost,  that  she  rose  and  came  softly  to  the 
bedside.  She  said  no  word,  but,  as  once  in  the 
dream-time,  she  laid  a  cool  palm  on  my  forehead. 
Weak  as  I  was — and  surely  King  David  was  not 


564       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

weaker  when  he  wrote  his  bones  were  gone  to  water 
— the  old  love-madness  of  that  other  day  came  to 
thrill  me  at  her  touch,  and  I  made  as  if  I  would  take 
her  hand  and  press  it  to  my  lips. 

"Nay,  sir,"  she  said,  with  a  swift  return  to  sick- 
room discipline,  "you  must  not  stir;  you  have  been 
sorely  hurt." 

"Aye,"  said  I;  "I  do  remember;  'twas  in  a  duel 
with  one  Francis  Falconnet.  He  said  he  would 
make  you  his — " 

Now  the  soft  palm  was  laid  on  my  lips,  and  I 
kissed  it  till  she  snatched  it  away. 

"Ma  foi!"  she  cried ;  "I  think  you  are  in  a  hopeful 
way  to  recover  now,  Captain  Ireton.  I  do  protest  I 
shall  go  and  send  old  Anthony  to  sit  with  you." 

"Anthony?"  said  I;  "he  was  in  the  dream,  too, 
putting  up  the  chain  on  the  hall  door." 

"Ah,  mon  Dieu!"  she  said  softly,  as  if  to  herself, 
"he  is  wandering  yet."  At  which,  as  if  to  try  to 
help  me :  "  'Twas  no  dream ;  you  did  see  him  put- 
ting on  the  chain." 

"Did  I  ?  I  made  sure  I  dreamed  it.  But  tell  me 
another  thing;  was  it  not  yesterday  that  I  met  Sir 
Francis  Falconnet  under  the  oaks  in  the  wood  field 
and  got  this  pair  of  redhot  pincers  in  my  shoulder  ?" 

She  turned  away,  and  if  I  ever  saw  a  tear  there 
was  one  trembling  in  her  eyelashes. 

"  'Twas  three  full  weeks  ago,"  she  said.  "And 
it  was  not  in  the  wood  field — 'twas  in  the  wine 
cellar.  Never  tell  me  you  do  not  remember;  I — I 


THE   CAUSE   GAINS   A   CONVERT    565 

could  never — ah,  Mother  of  Sorrows !  that  would  be 
worse  than  all." 

Here  was  a  curious  coil,  but  I  could  break  one 
strand  of  it,  at  least,  and  so  I  did. 

"I  remember  well  enough,"  I  hastened  to  say. 
"But  being  here,  and  seeing  you  there  in  the  great 
chair,  carried  me  back  to  that  other  time,  making 
all  the  interval  stand  as  a  dream.  Have  I  been 
ailing?" 

"You  have  been  terribly  near  to  death,  Monsieur 
John;  so  near  that  Doctor  Carew  has  twice  given 
you  over." 

"No,"  said  I ;  "there  was  no  fear  of  that.  I  am 
like  that  man  in  the  old  German  folk  tale  who  made 
a  compact  with  the  Evil  One,  selling  thereby  his 
chance  to  die.  Death  would  not  take  me  as  a  gift, 
Mistress  Margery;  I  have  tried  him  too  often." 

"Hush!"  she  said;  "  'tis  an  ill  thing  to  jest  about. 
Why  should  you  want  to  die?" 

"Rather  ask  why  I  should  choose  to  live.  But 
this  is  beside  the  mark.  You  should  have  let  me 
die,  dear  lady ;  but  since  you  did  not,  we  must  e'en 
make  the  best  of  it." 

She  faced  me  with  a  smile  that  struggled  with 
some  deeper  stirring  of  the  heart ;  I  knew  not  what. 

"  'Tis  a  monstrous  doleful  alternative,  n'est-ce 
pas?  And  I  must  not  let  you  talk  of  doleful  things ; 
indeed,  I  must  not  let  you  talk  at  all — 'tis  Doctor 
Carew's  order." 

So  saying,  she  smoothed  the  counterpane  and 


566       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

straightened  my  pillows ;  and  after  giving  me  a 
great  spoonful  of  some  cordial  that  first  set  a  pleas- 
ant glow  alight  in  me  and  afterward  made  me 
drowsy,  she  took  post  again  in  the  hollow  of  the 
big  chair  and  was  so  sitting  when  I  fell  asleep. 

This  day's  awakening  was  the  first  of  many  so 
nearly  of  a  piece  that  I  lost  the  count  of  them; 
and  sleep,  deep  and  dreamless  for  the  better  part, 
stole  away  the  hours  till  the  memory  of  that  inch- 
by-inch  return  to  health  and  strength  is  itself  like 
the  memory  of  the  vaguest  of  dreams. 

By  times  when  I  awoke  it  was  the  bluff  Doctor 
Carew  bending  over  me  to  dress  my  wound ;  at  other 
times  it  was  Margery  come  to  tempt  me  with  a  bowl 
of  broth  or  some  other  kickshaw  from  the  kitchen. 
Now  and  again  I  awoke  to  find  Scipio  or  old  An- 
thony standing  watch  at  my  bedside;  and  once — 
but  that  was  after  I  was  up  and  in  my  clothes  and 
able  to  sit  and  drowse  in  the  great  chair — I  opened 
my  eyes  to  find  that  my  company  was  the  master  of 
the  house. 

He  was  sitting  as  I  had  seen  him  sit  once  before, 
behind  a  lighted  candle  at  the  little  table  with  a 
parchment  spread  out  under  his  bony  hands.  He 
was  mumbling  over  the  written  words  of  it  when 
I  looked,  but  at  my  stirring  he  gave  over  and  sat 
back  in  his  chair  to  cross  his  thin  legs  and  match 
his  long  fingers  by  the  ends,  and  wink  and  blink  at 
me  as  though  he  had  but  now  discovered  that  he 
was  not  alone. 

"I  give  ye  good  even,  Captain  Ireton,"  he  said, 


THE   CAUSE   GAINS   A   CONVERT    567 

finally,  rasping  the  greeting  out  at  me  as  it  had  been 
a  curse.  "I  hope  ye've  slept  well." 

I  said  I  had,  and  thanked  him,  once  for  tKe  wish, 
and  again  for  his  coming  to  see  me.  I  know  not 
how  it  was,  but  if  there  had  been  rancor  in  my 
former  thoughts  of  him  'twas  something  abated  now. 

"Ye've  had  a  nearhand  escape  this  time,  sir,"  he 
said,  after  a  longish  pause. 

"One  more  or  less  of  a  good  many  since  we  were 
last  met  together  in  this  room,  Mr.  Stair,"  I  would 
say. 

He  muttered  something  to  himself  about  the  devil 
taking  precious  good  care  of  his  own ;  and  I  laughed. 

"That  is  as  it  may  be ;  but  my  being  here  this  sec- 
ond time  a  pensioner  on  your  bounty  is  by  no  good 
will  of  mine,  I  do  assure  you,  sir." 

He  sat  nodding  at  me  as  if  I  had  said  a  thing 
to  be  most  heartily  agreed  to.  But  his  spoken  word 
belied  the  nods. 

"The  ways  of  Providence  are  inscrutable — some- 
thing inscrutable,  Captain  Ireton.  I  make  no  doubt 
ye  are  sufficiently  thankfu'  for  all  your  mercies." 

"Why,  as  to  that,  there  may  be  two  ways  of  look- 
ing at  it.  As  a  soldier,  I  may  justly  repine  at  a  fate 
which  ties  me  here  when  I  should  be  in  the  field." 

"Well  said,  sir;  brawly  said;  'tis  the  part  of  a 
good  soldier  to  be  ay  wanting  to  be  in  the  thick 
o'  the  fighting.  But  now  that  ye're  a  man  of  sub- 
stance, Captain  Ireton,  ye  will  be  owing  other  debts 
to  our  country  than  the  one  ye  can  pay  with  a 
hantle  o'  steel." 


568       THE   MASTER   OE2APPLEBY 

"  'Our  country,'  did  you  say,  Mr.  Stair?"  I  asked, 
feigning  a  surprise  which  no  one  knowing  him  could 
feel  in  very  truth. 

"And  what  for  no  ?  'Tis  the  birthland  of  some — 
yourself,  for  example,  and  the  leal  land  of  adoption 
for  others — your  humble  servant,  to  wit.  I've  taken 
the  solemn  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Congress,  I'd 
have  ye  to  know." 

At  this  I  must  needs  laugh  outright. 

"Have  you  taken  it  one  more  time  than  you  have 
forsworn  it,  Mr.  Stair?" 

"Laugh  and  ye  will,"  he  said,  quite  placably ;  "ye 
shall  never  laugh  the  peetriotism  out  o'  me.  'Tis 
little  enough  an  old  man  can  do,  but  the  precious 
cause  o'  liberty  will  never  have  to  ask  that  little 
twice,  Captain  Ireton." 

Since  he  would  ever  be  on  the  winning  side,  this 
foreshadowed  good  tidings,  indeed.  So  I  would 
ask  him  straight  what  news  there  was. 

"Have  they  not  told  ye?  Tis  braw  news,"  He 
chuckled.  "Whilst  ye  were  on  your  back,  General 
Greene  led  Lord  Cornwallis  a  fine  dance  all  across 
the  prov — the  state,  I  mean,  crooking  his  finger 
at  him  and  saying,  'Come  on,  ye  led-captain  of  a 
tyrant  king,  and  when  I'm  ready  I'll  turn  and  rend 
ye.'  And  by  the  same  token,  that  is  juist  what  he 
did  the  other  day  at  Guilford  Court  House." 

"A  victory  ?"  I  would  ask. 

"Well,  not  precisely  that,  maybe;  they're  calling 
it  a  drawn  battle.  But  I'm  thinking  'tis  Lord  Corn- 
wallis that's  drawn.  He's  off  to  Wilmington,  they 


THE   CAUSE   GAINS   A  CONVERT  1569 

say,  and  I'm  fain  to  hope  we've  seen  the  last  o'  him 
and  his  reaving  redcoats  in  these  parts." 

His  words  set  me  in  a  muse.  I  could  never  make 
out  what  he  would  be  at,  telling  me  all  this.  But 
he  had  an  object,  well-defined,  and  presently  it 
showed  its  head. 

"Ye're  the  laird  o'  the  manor,  now,  Captain  Ire- 
ton,  with  none  to  gainsay  ye,"  he  went  on.  "So 
I've  come  to  give  ye  an  account  o'  my  stewardship. 
I  made  no  doubt,  all  along,  ye'd  come  back  to  your 
own  when  ye'd  had  your  fling  wi'  the  Old  Worldies, 
and  so  I've  kept  tab  o'  the  poor  bit  land  for  ye." 

"Oh,  you  have  ?"  said  I,  being  so  far  out-brazened 
as  to  be  incapable  of  saying  more. 

"I  have  that — every  plack  and  bawbee.  Tis  ten 
years  come  Michaelmas  since  I  took  over  the  charge 
o'  Appleby  Hundred,  and  I'm  ready  to  account  to 
ye  for  every  season's  crop — when  ye'll  pay  down  the 
bit  steward's  fee." 

"Truly,"  said  I ;  "you  are  an  honest  man,  Mr. 
Stair."  Then,  to  humor  him  to  the  top  of  his  bent : 
"Haphazarding  a  guess,  now ;  would  this  accounting 
leave  a  balance  in  my  favor,  or  in  yours  ?" 

He  gave  me  a  look  like  that  of  a  costermonger 
weighing  and  measuring  the  gullibility  of  his  cus- 
tomer. 

"Oh,  aye ;  I'm  no  saying  there  might  n't  be  a  bit 
siller  coming  to  me ;  a  few  hundred  pounds,  more  or 
less — sterling,  man,  sterling;  not  Scots,"  he  added 
hastily.  And  then,  as  if  it  were  best  to  leave  this 
nail  as  it  was  driven,  he  changed  the  subject  ab- 


570        THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

ruptly.  "I've  brought  ye  that  last  will  and  testa- 
ment ye  signed,"  handing  me  the  parchment.  "No 
doubt  you'll  let  it  stand ;  but  when  the  bairns  come, 
ye'll  want  to  be  adding  a  codicil  or  two." 

Leaving  the  matter  of  the  estate,  I  thought  it 
high  time  to  cut  to  the  marrow  of  the  bigger  bone. 
So  I  said :  "Let  us  be  frank  with  each  other  in  this, 
Mr.  Stair.  How  much  has  your  daughter  told  you 
of  the  matter  between  us  ?" 

"She's  a  jade !"  he  rasped,  lapsing  for  a  moment 
into  his  real  self.  But  he  recovered  his  self-control 
instantly.  "Ye'd  no  expect  a  romantic  bit  lassie  wi' 
French  blood  in  her  veins  to  be  confidencing  wi' 
her  old  dried-up  wisp  of  a  father,  now,  would  ye? 
She's  no  tell't  me  everything,  I  daresay." 

"Then  I  will  tell  you  the  plain  truth  of  it,"  I 
said.  "This  marriage  was  never  anything  more 
than  the  form  we  all  agreed  it  should  be  at  the  time ; 
a  makeshift  to  serve  a  purpose.  If  you  think  I 
would  hold  your  daughter  to  it — " 

"Hut,  tut,  man !  what  will  ye  be  havering  about ! 
Ye'll  never  cast  the  poor  bit  lassie  off  that  way! 
Ye  canna,  if  ye  would;  her  Church  will  have  a 
word  to  say  to  that." 

For  all  his  aping  the  manner  of  the  ignored 
father,  I  shrewdly  suspected  that  he  knew  more 
about  the  ins  and  outs  of  our  affair  than  he  owned 
to.  Nevertheless,  I  was  forced  to  meet  him  on  his 
own  ground. 

"There  is  no  'casting  off'  about  it,  Mr.  Stair ;  and 
as  to  the  Church,  there  is  good  ground  for  an  ap- 


THE   CAUSE   GAINS   A   CONVERT     571 

peal  to  Rome.  The  marriage  as  it  stands  is  little 
more  than  a  formal  betrothal,  as  you*well  know, 
sound  enough  legally  to  make  Mistress  Margery 
my  heir-at-law,  mayhap,  but  still  lacking  every- 
thing of—" 

He  could  not  wait  to  let  me  finish. 

"Lacking,  d'ye  say?"  he  rapped  out,  wrathfully. 
"And  whose  fault  is  that,  ye  cold-blooded  stick? 
Tell  me  this ;  did  I  no  bundle  ye  neck  and  heels  into 
your  own  wife's  bed-room?  And  how  do  you 
thank  me?  I'm  to  suppose  ye  quarrel  wi'  her  like 
the  dour-faced  imp  o'  Sawtan  that  ye  are,  and 
presently  ye  come  raging  out,  swearing  most 
shamefully  at  a  man  old  enough  to  be  your  father !" 

'Twas  far  enough  in  the  retrospect  now  so  that 
I  could  smile  at  it.  Yet  I  would  not  suffer  him  to 
bluster  me  aside. 

"It  was  an  ill  thing  for  you  to  do,  none  the  less, 
Mr.  Stair;  the  more  as  you  must  have  known  that 
Mistress  Margery's  faith  was  plighted  to  Richard 
Jennifer  long  before  all  this  came  to  pass." 

"Did  I  know  it?"  he  shrilled.  "That  lang-legged 
jackanapes  of  a  Dickie  Jennifer?  Light  o'  love 
jade  that  she  is,  she  never  cared  the  snap  of  a  finger 
for  him." 

"You  are  talking  far  enough  beside  the  mark 
now,"  I  retorted.  "Your  daughter  loves  Richard 
Jennifer  well  and  truly ;  and  with  this  entanglement 
brushed  aside  she  will  marry  him  when  he  comes 
back  from  the  wars." 

"She  will,  ye  say?    And  wKat  will  become  o'  the 


572       THE   MASTER   OF  APPLEBY 

braw  acres  of  Appleby  that  gait,  I'd  like  to  know? 
But  ye're  daft,  man;  clean  daft.  Didn't  I  speir 
her  giving  him  his  quittance  once  for  all  that  night 
when  he  rode  away  after  they  had  pitten  ye  to  bed  ? 
She  tell't  him  flat  she  loved  anither  man." 

"Another  man  ?"  I  echoed.  "I — explain  yourself, 
if  you  please,  Mr.  Stair.  What  other  man — " 

He  was  at  the  door  by  this,  and  he  broke  out 
upon  me  in  such  a  blast  of  cursing  as  I  hope  never 
to  hear  from  the  lips  of  such  an  old  man  again. 

"Ye  cold-blooded,  crusty  deevil!"  he  quavered, 
when  all  his  breath  was  spent  upon  the  bigger  mali- 
sons. "Has  it  never  come  intil  your  thick  numb- 
skull that  the  poor  fule  lassie  is  sick  wi'  love  for  ye, 
ye  dour-faced  loon?" 

And  with  that  he  let  himself  out  and  slammed 
the  door  behind  him,  and  I  heard  him  go  pottering 
down  the  corridor,  still  cursing  me  by  all  the  choice 
phrases  he  could  lay  tongue  to. 


LIT 

WHICH  BRINGS  US  TO  THE  JOURNEYS  END 

I  may  confess  to  you,  my  dears,  that  Mr.  Gilbert 
Stair's  parting  tirade  did  not  move  me  greatly, 
since  I  would  set  down  everything  he  had  said  to 
the  one  account — the  miser's. 

Yet  when  I  came  to  second  thoughts  upon  it,  this 
account  balanced  but  indifferently.  Why  should  he 
be  so  eager  to  make  me  think  small  of  Margery's 
love  for  Richard  Jennifer  ?  And  why,  misliking  me, 
as  I  made  sure  he  did,  should  he  be  so  hot  to  make 
the  shadow  marriage  a  thing  of  substance?  From 
the  miser-father's  point  of  view,  Richard,  with  his 
goodly  heritage  of  Jennifer  House,  was  a  match  to 
be  angled  for;  yet  here  was  the  man  in  whose  eye 
house  and  lands  loomed  largest  flying  into  rage  be- 
cause I  sought  to  put  his  daughter  in  the  way  of 
marrying  them. 

I  was  pondering  thoughtfully  on  this,  giving  the 
pinching  old  man  credit  for  any  and  every  motive 
save  that  which  he  had  so  cursingly  avowed,  to  wit, 
the  furthering  of  his  daughter's  happiness,  when 
there  came  a  tap  at  the  door  and  Mistress  Margery 
entered. 

573 


574        THE    MASTER   OF   APPLEBY 

"Dear  heart !  Do  they  limit  you  to  a  single  can- 
dle when  my  back  is  turned?"  she  said,  in  mock 
pity ;  and  saying  it,  went  to  light  the  candles  in  the 
mantel  sconces. 

The  sight  of  her  standing  a-tiptoe  to  touch  off 
the  candles  on  the  chimney  breast  set  the  old  love- 
spell  at  work  to  make  my  heart  beat  faster.  What  if 
there  were  a  hint  of  truth  in  Gilbert  Stair's  wrath- 
ful protest?  What  if,  after  all,  she  cared  less  for 
Richard  and  more  for  me? 

Do  not,  I  pray  you,  my  dears,  think  too  hardly 
of  the  man  who  thus  lays  bare  the  secret  thoughts 
of  his  heart  for  you.  'Twas  but  a  passing  gust  of 
the  tempest  of  disloyalty,  and  I  was  not  swept 
wholly  from  my  moorings.  Nay,  when  she  came 
to  sit  on  the  hassock  at  my  feet,  as  she  used  to  do 
in  that  other  halcyon-time  of  convalescence,  I  was 
myself  again  and  could  look  upon  her  sweet  face 
with  eyes  that  saw  beyond  her  to  the  camp  or  battle- 
field where  my  dear  lad  was  spending  himself. 

For  a  time  we  sat  in  silence,  and  'twas  she  who 
spoke  first. 

"My  father  has  been  with  you,"  she  said.  "I 
hope  you  did  not  quarrel  with  him." 

"No,"  I  denied,  salving  my  conscience  with  the 
remembering  that  it  takes  two  to  make  a  quarrel ; 
and  I  had  done  none  of  the  cursing.  "He  came  to 
give  me  this,"  I  added,  handing  her  the  will. 

She  opened  the  folded  parchment,  reading  a  line 
of  it  here  and  there  softly  to  herself. 


575 

— "  'Being  of  sound  mind,  doth  bequeath  and 
devise  to  his  loving  wife,  Margery — '  Ah,  had  you 
been  writing  it  you  would  not  have  written  it  so, 
would  you,  Monsieur  John  ?" 

"  Tis  but  a  form,"  I  would  say.  "All  wives  are 
'loving'  in  lawyers'  speech." 

She  smiled  up  at  me  so  like  an  innocent  and  fear- 
less child  that  for  the  moment  I  could  figure  her  no 
otherwise.  Yet  her  rejoinder  was  a  woman's. 

"I  say  you  would  not  have  written  it  so;  is  not 
that  the  truth  ?" 

I  would  not  let  her  pin  me  down. 

"If  I  should  write  it  now,  it  should  be  written 
in  great  letters,  dear  lady.  Though  it  is  but  a  form, 
though  that  which  followed  was  but  another  form, 
you  have  not  failed  in  any  wifely  duty,  Mistress 
Margery." 

"Not  once?" 

"No,  not  once.  Three  times  you  have  done  what 
the  lovingest  wife  could  do  to  save  a  husband's 
life;  and  I  do  greatly  suspect  there  was  a  fourth 
and  earlier  time.  Tell  me,  little  one;  was  it  not 
you  who  sent  the  Indian  to  Captain  Forney  to  tell 
him  a  patriot  spy  was  to  be  executed  at  day-dawn 
in  the  oak  glade  ?" 

She  would  not  answer  me  direct. 

1  Twas  I  who  brought  you  to  that  pass,"  she 
said,  speaking  soft  and  low.  "But  for  my  riding 
down  upon  you  one  other  morning  in  that  same 
oak  glade,  you  would  not  have  had  Sir  Francis 


576       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBYi 

Falconnet's  sword  in  your  shoulder.  And  but  for 
that  sword  wound,  nothing  that  followed  would 
have  followed." 

Saying  this  she  fell  silent  for  a  space,  and  when 
she  spoke  again  she  was  become  by  some  subtle 
transmutation  my  trusting  little  maid  of  the  by- 
gone halcyon-time. 

"Do  you  remember  how  you  used  to  make  a  com- 
rade of  me  in  the  old  days,  Monsieur  John,  telling 
me  things  my  elder  brother  might  have  told  me, 
had  I  had  one  ?" 

I  said  I  remembered;  that  I  was  not  likely  to 
forget. 

"Are  you  strong  enough  to  stand  in  that  elder 
brother's  place  again  to-night?" 

"Try  me  and  see,  dear  lady." 

"Not  whilst  you  say  'dear  lady/ "  she  pouted. 
"  'Twas  'Margery'  and  'Monsieur  John'  a  year 
agone." 

"Have  it  as  you  will ;  I  will  even  call  you  'Madge' 
if  it  pleases  you  better." 

"No,"  she  said ;  "that  is  Dick's  name  for  me ;  and 
— and  it  is  of  Dick  that  I  would  speak.  You  love 
him  well,  do  you  not,  Monsieur  John  ?" 

I  said  I  could  never  make  her,  or  any  woman, 
fully  understand  the  bond  there  was  between  us. 

"Truly?"  There  was  the  merest  flavor  of  play- 
ful sarcasm  in  the  uptilt  of  the  word,  but  it  was 
gone  when  she  went  on. 

"Being  so  good  a  friend  to  Dick,  then,  you  can 


THE  JOURNEY'S   END  577 

advise  me  the  better.  Tell  me,  if  you  please,  must 
I  marry  him — when — " 

"When  you  are  free  to  do  it?"  I  finished  for 
her.  "Why  should  you  not,  my  dear  ?" 

She  was  pulling  the  threads  from  the  lace  edging 
of  her  kerchief  and  would  not  for  a  king's  ransom 
let  her  eyes  meet  mine. 

"You  used  to  say — in  that  other  time — that  love 
should  go  before  a  marriage ;  did  you  not  ?  Or  do 
I  remember  badly?" 

"You  remember  well.  I  said  it  then,  and  I  say 
it  again  at  this  present.  But  Dick  loves  you  well 
and  truly,  sweetheart ;  and  you — " 

She  looked  up  quickly  with  the  little  laugh  that 
used  to  mind  me  of  happy  children  at  play. 

"And  I  ? — now  you  will  read  a  woman's  heart  for 
me,  Monsieur  John.  Tell  me ;  do  I  love  him  as  his 
mistress  should?" 

"Nay,  surely,"  said  I,  gravely,  for  somehow  her 
laugh  jarred  upon  me,  "surely  that  is  for  you  to 
say.  But  you  have  said  it,  long  since." 

"Have  I?"  she  queried,  with  an  arch  lifting  of 
the  penciled  brows  that  came  straight  from  her 
French  mother.  "Mayhap  you  overheard  me  say  it, 
Monsieur  Eavesdropper  ?" 

"God  help  me,  little  one — so  I  did,"  said  I. 

All  in  a  flash  her  laughing  mood  was  gone  and 
she  stood  before  me  like  an  accusing  goddess. 

"You  told  me  once  the  past  was  like  a  dream  to 
you;  you  must  have  dreamed  that  part  of  it,  sir. 


578       THE   MASTER  OF  APPLEBY 

And  yet  you  said  a  little  while  ago  that  I  had  not 
failed  in  any  wifely  duty !" 

"The  time  and  circumstance  were  their  own  best 
excuse.  Sure  I  am  far  from  blaming  you,  my  dear. 
But  let  it  pass,  'tis  enough  that- 1  know  you  love 
him  as  he  loves  you." 

Again  her  mood  changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  She  sank  down  upon  the  hassock,  laughing 
merrily. 

"O  wise  Monsieur  John!  how  well  you  read  a 
woman's  heart!  'Tis  you  should  be  the  lover,  in- 
stead of  Dick.  He  rides  a-courting  as  he  would 
charge  a  legion  on  a  battle-field.  But  nothing 
would  ever  tempt  you  to  be  so  masterful  rough, 
would  it,  Monsieur  John?  You  would  look  deep 
into  your  sweetheart's  eyes  and  say — Tell  me  what 
you  would  say,  won  ami?" 

Ah,  my  dears,  I  hope  no  one  of  you  will  ever  be 
tempted  as  I  was  tempted  then.  I  forgot  my  dear 
lad,  forgot  honor,  forgot  everything  save  that  I 
had  leave  to  tell  her  how  I  had  loved  her  from  the 
first;  how  I  should  go  on  loving  her  to  the  end. 
So  for  a  moment  I  hung  trembling  on  the  brink; 
and  then  she  pushed  me  over. 

"Is  this  how  you  would  do,  Monsieur — Monsieur 
Ogre? — sit  stock  still  and  glower  at  the  poor  thing 
as  if  you  were  between  two  minds  as  to  loving  her 
or  eating  her  ?" 

I  bent  quickly,  took  her  face  between  my  hands 
and  kissed  her  twice — thrice. 


THE  JOURNEY'S   END  579 

"That  is  what  I  should  do.  Now  that  you  have 
made  me  what  I  was  not  before,  are  you  satisfied?" 

'Twas  long  before  she  gave  me  a  word.  And 
when  she  spoke  it  was  only  to  say :  "Are  you  not 
most  monstrous  ashamed,  Monsieur  John  ?" 

"No!"  said  I.  "I  am  but  a  man,  and  you  have 
roused  that  part  of  me  that  knows  neither  shame 
nor  remorse.  I  love  you,  Mistress  Margery ;  do  you 
hear?  I  have  loved  you  since  that  day  in  June 
when  I  came  back  from  death's  door  to  find  you 
sitting  here  to  bear  me  company." 

She  locked  her  fingers  across  her  knee  and  would 
not  look  at  me. 

"But  by  your  own  showing  you  should  be 
ashamed,  sir,"  she  insisted.  "What  of  the  dear 
friend  to  wThom  you  would  give  up  even  the  love 
of  your  mistress  ?" 

"You  may  flay  me  as  you  will;  I  shall  neither 
flinch  nor  go  back  from  my  word.  You  are  mine, 
and  I  shall  give  you  up  to  no  man.  I  know  I  have 
not  your  love — shall  never  have  it.  Also,  I  know 
that  I  have  gained  an  enemy  where  once  I  had  a 
loving  friend.  Richard  Jennifer  may  kill  me  if  he 
please — he  shall  have  the  chance  to  do  it;  but  you 
are  mine  and  shall  be  whilst  I  live  to  claim  and  hold 
you." 

There  was  something  less  than  anger  in  the  blue- 
gray  eyes  when  she  let  me  see  them;  nay,  I  could 
have  sworn  there  was  a  flash  of  playful  mockery 
in  them  when  she  said :  "Dear  heart !  how  master- 


580       THE   MASTER   OF   APPLEBY, 

ful  rough  you  have  grown,  all  in  a  moment,  my 
Lord."  And  then  the  beautiful  eyes  filled  and  she 
said,  "Poor  Dick!"  in  a  way  to  make  me  suffer  all 
the  torments  of  that  old  myth-king  who  could  never 
quaff  the  water  that  was  ever  rising  to  his  lips. 

"Aye,  you  may  love  him,  if  you  must  and  will," 
I  gloomed.  "God  pity  me!  I  know  you  do  love 
him." 

She  looked  up  quickly.  "So  you  have  said  a 
dozen  times  before.  Tell  me,  Monsieur  Oracle, 
how  do  you  know  it  ?" 

"If  I  tell  you,  you  will  hate  me  more  than  you 
do  now." 

"That  would  be  hard,  indeed,"  she  murmured. 
"Yet  I  would  hear  you  say  it." 

"Listen,  then:  once,  when  we  three  were  at  the 
very  door  and  threshold  of  death,  you  wrote  the 
cry  of  your  heart  out  on  a  bit  of  paper  for  a  leave- 
taking  and  sent  it  to  the  man  you  loved.  You  said, 
'Though  you  must  needs  believe  my  love  is  pledged 
to  your  dear  friend  and  mine,  'tis  yours,  and  yours 
alone.'  Were  not  these  your  very  words  ?" 

Her  "yes"  was  but  the  lightest  whisper,  but  I 
heard  it  and  went  on.  "That  is  all,  save  this;  the 
Indian  bearer  of  your  letter  blundered  and  gave  it 
me  instead  of  Dick." 

She  looked  me  full  in  the  eyes  and  my  soul  went 
all  afire.  Then  she  laid  her  cheek  against  my  knee 
and  I  heard  her  dear  voice  as  it  had  been  a  chime 
of  sweet-toned  joy-bells: 

"Ah,  Monsieur  John ;  how  blind  this  thing  called 


THE  JOURNEY'S   END  581 

love  can  make  us  all.    Suppose — suppose  the  Indian 
did  not  blunder,  dear  lord  and  master  of  me  ?" 


THE  END 


A  LIST  OF  RECENT  FICTION  OF 
THE  BOWEN-MERRILL  COMPANY 


THE  GREAT  NOVEL  OF  THE  YEAR 

THE  MISSISSIPPI 
BUBBLE 

How  the  star  of  good  fortune  rose  and  set  and  rose 

again,  by  a  woman' s  grace,  for  one 

John  Law,  of  La uriston 

A  novel  by  EMERSON  HOUGH 


Emerson  Hough  has  written  one  of  the  best  novels  that  has 
come  out  of  America  in  many  a  day.  It  is  an  exciting  story, 
with  the  literary  touch  on  every  page. 

— JEANNETTE  L.  GILDER,  of  The  Critic. 

In  "The  Mississippi  Bubble"  Emerson  Hough  has  taken 

John  Law  and  certain  known  events  in  his  career,  and  about 

them  he  has  woven  a  web  of  romance  full  of  brilliant  coloring 

and  cunning  work.      It  proves  conclusively  that  Mr.  Hough 

.  is  a  novelist  of  no  ordinary  quality. — The  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

As  a  novel  embodying  a  wonderful  period  in  the  growth  of 
America  "The  Mississippi  Bubble"  is  of  intense  interest.  As 
a  love  story  it  is  rarely  and  beautifully  told.  John  Law,  as 
drawn  in  this  novel,  is  a  great  character,  cool,  debonair,  auda- 
cious, he  is  an  Admirable  Crichton  in  his  personality,  and  a 
Napoleon  in  his  far-reaching  wisdom. — The  Chicago  American. 

The  Illustrations  by  Henry  Hutt 
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It  is  fresh  and  spontaneous,  having  nothing  of 

that  wooden  quality  which  is  becoming 

associated   with    the    term 

"  historical  novel." 


HEARTS 
COURAGEOUS 

By  HALLIE  ERMINIE  RIVES 


"  Hearts  Courageous  "  is  made  of  new  material,  a  pic- 
turesque yet  delicate  style,  good  plot  and  very  dramatic 
situations.  The  best  in  the  book  are  the  defence  of  George 
Washington  by  the  Marquis  ;  the  duel  between  the  English 
officer  and  the  Marquis;  and  Patrick  Henry  flinging  the 
brand  of  war  into  the  assembly  of  the  burgesses  of  Virginia. 
Williamsburg,  Virginia,  the  country  round  about,  and 
the  lite  led  in  that  locality  just  before  the  Revolution,  form 
an  attractive  setting  for  the  action  of  the  story. 

With  six  illustrations  by  A.  B.  Wenzell 
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A  NEW  NOTE   IN  FICTION. 

THE  STROLLERS 

By  FREDERIC  S.  ISHAM 


"  The  Strollers  "  is  a  novel  of  much  merit. 

The  scenes  are  laid  in  that  picturesque  and  interesting 
period  of  American  life- the  last  of  the  stage-coach  days— 
the  days  of  the  strolling  player. 

The  author,  Frederic  S.  Isham,  gives  a  delightful  and 
accurate  account  of  a  troop  of  players  making  a  circuit  in 
the  wilderness  from  New  York  to  New  Orleans,  travelling  by 
stage,  carrying  one  wagon  load  of  scenery,  playing  in  town 
halls,  taverns,  barns  or  whatnot. 

"  The  Strollers  "  is  a  new  note  in  fiction. 

With  eight  illustrations  by  Harrison  Fisher 
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AN     INTERESTING     STORY     OF 
FAMILY    LIFE. 


THE 
FIGHTING  BISHOP 

By  HERBERT  M.  HOPKINS 


"  The  Fighting  Bishop  "  is  drawn  with  firm,  bold  strokes 
and  with  a  sufficiently  scholarly  atmosphere  to  make  the 
picture  life-like.  There  is  wisdom  too,  in  the  attitude  of  the 
author  toward  his  characters ;  and  the  entire  atmosphere  of 
the  book  is  of  fine  quality.  The  general  accuracy  and 
vividness  of  the  portraiture  are  likely  to  impress  everyone. 
*  *  *  It  contains  passages  and  characterizations  that 
some  readers  will  find  it  difficult  to  forget.— The  Hartford 
Courant. 

The  bishop's  musical  son,  Stephen's,  obstinate  vanity, 
his  irritable  nervous  nature,  his  impatience  of  advice  and  his 
wonderful  confidence  in  his  own  genius  are  admirably 
brought  out  in  the  course  of  the  narrative  and  the 
chapter  containing  his  letters  to  his  brother  is  one  of  the 
best  in  the  book.  It  shows  his  character  humorously  and 
without  exaggeration,  and  this  is  typical  of  the  whole  story. 
The  author  sees  his  personages  with  a  human  sympathic 
eye.— Netu  York  Sun. 


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A  VIVID  WESTERN   STORY  OF  LOVE 
AND  POLITICS 


THE  1 3TH  DISTRICT 

By  BRAND  WHITLOCK 


This  is  a  story  of  high  order.    By  its  scope  and  strength 

• 

it  deserves  to  be  spoken  of  as  a  novel — and  that  word  has 
been  very  much  abused  by  hanging  it  to  any  old  thing.  It 
is  a  wonderfully  good  and  interesting  account  of  the  workings 
of  politics  from  before  the  primaries  on  through  election, 
with  a  splendid  love  story  also  woven  into  it. 

One  would  think  for  instance,  that  it  would  be  impossible 
to  give  an  account  cf  a  "  primary  "  and  keep  it  interesting ; 
it  is  natural  to  suppose  a  writer  would  become  entangled  with 
the  dull  routine  of  it  all,  but  he  does  not,  he  makes  it  inter 
esting.  He  shows  the  tricks,  the  heat,  the  passion,  the 
tumult ;  the  weariness  and  stubborness  of  a  dead  lock.  The 
descriptions  of  society  life  in  the  book  are  equally  good. 

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"NOTHING   BUT    PRAISE" 

LAZARRE 

By  MARY  HARTWELL  CATHERWOOD 


Glorified  by  a  beautiful  love  story. — Chicago  Tribune. 

We  feel  quite  justified  in  predicting  a  wide-spread  and 
prolonged  popularity  for  this  latest  comer  into  the  ranks  of 
historical  fiction. —  The  N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 

After  all  the  material  for  the  story  had  been  collected  a 
year  was  required  for  the  writing  of  it.  It  is  an  historical 
romance  of  the  better  sort,  with  stirring  situations,  good  bits 
of  character  drawing  and  a  satisfactory  knowledge  of  the 
tone  and  atmosphere  of  the  period  involved. — N*  Y.  Herald. 

Lazarre,  is  no  less  a  person  than  the  Dauphin,  Louis 
XVII.  of  France,  and  a  right  royal  hero  he  makes.  A  prince 
who,  for  the  sake  of  his  lady,  scorns  perils  in  two  hemis- 
pheres, facing  the  wrath  of  kings  in  Europe  and  the  bullets 
of  savages  in  America;  who  at  the  last  spurns  a  kingdom  that 
he  may  wed  her  freely— here  is  one  to  redeem  the  sins  of  even 
those  who  "never  learn  and  never  forget."— /VjzVa</*//.6za 
North  A  merican 

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A  VIVACIOUS  ROMANCE  OF  REVOLU- 
TIONARY DAYS 


By  MAURICE  THOMPSON 


The  Atlanta  Constitution  toys  ' 

"  Mr.  Thompson,  whose  delightful  writings  in  prose  and 
verse  have  made  his  reputation  national,  has  achieved  his 
master  stroke  of  genius  in  this  historical  novel  of  revolu- 
tionary days  in  the  West." 

The  Denver  Daily  News  says  ' 

"  There  are  three  great  chapters  of  fiction  s  Scott's  tourna- 
ment on.  Ashby  field,  General  Wallace's  chariot  race,  and 
now  Maurice  Thompson's  duel  scene  and  the  raising  of 
Alice's  flag  over  old  Fort  Vincennes." 

The  Chicago  Times-Herald  says  : 

"  More  original  than  'Richard  Carvel,'  more  cohesive  than 
'To  Have  and  To  Hold,'  more  vital  than  *  Janice  Mere- 
dith,' such  is  Maurice  Thompson's  superb  American  ro- 
mance, 'Alice  of  Old  Vincennes.'  It  is,  in  addition, 
more  artistic  and  spontaneous  than  any  of  its  rivals." 

VIRGINIA  HARNED  EDITION 

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"THE  MERRIEST  NOVEL  OF  MANY, 
MANY  MOONS." 

MY  LADY  PEGGY 
GOES  TO  TOWN 

By  FRANCES  AYMAR  MATHEWS 

The  Daintiest  and   Most  Delightful  Book 
of  the  Season. 

A  heroine  almost  too  charming  to  be  true  is  Peggy,  and 
it  were  a  churlish  reader  who  is  not.  at  the  end  of  the  first 
chapter,  prostrate  belore  her  red  slippers. — Washington  Post, 

To  make  a  comparison  would  be  to  rank  "My  Lady 
Peggy"  with  "Monsieur  Beaucaire"  in  points  of  attraction, 
and  to  applaud  as  heartily  as  that  delicate  romance,  this 
picture  of  the  days  "  When  patches  nestled  o'er  sweet  lips 
at  chocolate  times."— N.  Y.  Mail  and  Express. 

12  mo.     Beautifully  illustrated  and  bound. 
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1AS  CRISP  AND  CLEAN  CUT 
AS   A   NEW   MINTAGE." 


THE 
PUPPET    CROWN 

BY  HAROLD  MACGRATH 


A  princess  rarely  beautiful;  a  duchess  magnificent  and 
heartless;  a  villain  revengeful  and  courageous;  a  hero  youth- 
ful, humorous,  fearless  and  truly  American;— such  are  the 
principal  characters  of  this  delightful  story. — Syracuse  Post- 
Standard, 

Harold  MacGrath  has  attained  the  highest  point  achiev- 
able in  recent  fiction.  We  have  the  climax  of  romance  and 
adventure  in  "The  Puppet  Crown.1'  —  The  Philadelphia 
North  A  merican. 

Superior  to  most  of  the  great  successes. — St.  Paul  Pioneer 
Press. 

"The  Puppet  Crown"  is  a  profusion  of  cleverness. — Bal- 
timore A  merican. 

Challenges  comparison  with  authors  whose  names  have 
become  immortal — Chicago  American. 

Latest  entry  in  the  list  of  winners.— Cleveland  World. 

With  illustrations  by  R.  Martine  Reay 
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A  STORY  BY  THE  "MARCH  KING" 

THE 
FIFTH  STRING 

By  JOHN  PHILIP  SOUSA 

The  "  March  King"  has  written  much  in  a  musical  way, 
but  "  The  Fifth  String  "  is  his  first  published  story.  In  the 
choice  of  his  subject,  as  the  title  indicates,  Mr.  Sousa  has 
remained  faithful  to  his  art;  and  the  great  public,  that  has 
learned  to  love  him  for  the  marches  he  has  made,  will  be  as 
delighted  with  his  pen  as  with  his  baton. 

"The  Fifth  String"  has  a  strong  and  clearly  defined 
plot  which  shows  in  its  treatment  the  author's  artistically 
sensitive  temperament  and  his  tremendous  dramatic  power. 
It  is  a  story  of  a  marvelous  violin,  of  a  wonderful  love  and  of 
a  strange  temptation. 

A  cover,  especially  designed,  and  six  full-page  illustra- 
tions by  Howard  Chandler  Christy,  serve  to  give  the  dis- 
tinguishing decorative  embellishments  that  this  first  book  by 
Mr.  Sousa  so  richly  deserves, 

With  Pictures  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy 
12  mo.     Price,  $1.25 

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«'A  NOVEL  THAT'S  WORTH  WHILE " 

The  REDEMPTION 
of  DAVID  CORSON 

By  CHARLES  FREDERIC  GOSS 


A  Mid-century  American  Novel 
of  Intense  Power  and  Interest 


The  Interior  says  : 

"  This  is  a  book  that  is  worth  while.  Though  it  tells  of 
weakness  and  wickedness,  of  love  and  license,  of  revenge 
and  remorse  in  an  intensely  interesting  way,  yet  it  is  above 
all  else  a  clean  and  pure  story.  No  one  can  read  it  and 
honestly  ask  '  what's  the  use.'  " 

Newell  Divigbt  If  Hit,  Pattor  of  Plymouth  Cburcb,  Brooklyn, 

says : 
«' '  The  Redemption  of  David  Corson*  strikes  a  strong,  healthy, 

buoyant  note." 

Dr.  F.  W.  Gunsaulus,  President  Armour  Institute,  says } 
"Mr.  Goss  writes  with  the  truthfulness  of  light.  He  has 
told  a  story  in  which  the  fact  of  sin  is  illuminated  with  the 
utmost  truthfulness  and  the  fact  of  redemption  is  portrayed 
with  extraordinary  power.  There  are  lines  of  greatness  in 
the  book  which  I  shall  never  forget." 

President  M.  W.  Stryker,  Hamilton  College,  says : 

4 '  It  is  a  victory  in  writing  for  one  whose  head  seems  at  last 

to  have  matched  his  big  human  heart.   There  is  ten  times 

as  much  of  reality  in  it  as  there  is  in '  David  Harum,'  which 

does  not  value  lightly  that  admirable  charcoal  sketch." 

Price,  11.50 


The  Bowen-Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


"A  CHRONICLE  OF  MARVELS" 

THE  FIRST  MEN 
IN  THE  MOON 

By  H.  G.  WELLS 

Author  of  "The  War  of  the  Worlds"  and  "Tales  of  Time 
and  Space." 


Mr.  Wells  writes  to  entertain  and  in  this  tale  of  the 
invention  of  "  cavorite,"  and  the  subsequent  remarkable 
journey  made  to  the  moon  by  its  inventor,  he  has  succeeded 
beyond  measure  in  alternately  astounding,  convincing  and 
delighting  his  readers.  Told  in  a  straightforward  way,  with 
an  air  of  ingenuousness  that  disarms  doubt,  the  story 
chronicles  most  marvelous  discoveries  and  adventures  on 
the  mysterious  planet.  Mr.  Hering's  many  illustrations 
are  admirable.  Altogether  the  book  is  one  of  the  most 
original  and  entertaining  volumes  that  has  appeared  in 
many  a  day. 

Profusely  Illustrated  by  E.  Hering 
i2mo.,  cloth,  $1.50 


The  Bowen-Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


"AN  INDIANA  LOVE  STORY" 

ROSALYNDE'S 
LOVERS 

By  MAURICE  THOMPSON 
Author  of  "Alice  of  Old  Vincennes" 


As  Mr.  Thompson  avers,  this  is  "only  a  love  story," 
but  it  is  a  story  of  such  sweetness  and  wholesome  life 
that  it  will  at  once  claim  a  permanent  home  in  our  affections. 
The  love  of  nature,  so  prominent  a  characteristic  of  Mr. 
Thompson,  Is  reflected  throughout  and  the  thunderstorm 
and  following  gleam  of  sun,  the  country  garden  and 
southern  lake  are  each  in  turn  invested  with  a  personality 
that  wins  our  instant  sympathy.  Rosalynde  Banderet  is 
winsome  and  artless,  her  lovers  are  human  and  manly 
and  her  final  happiness  is  ours.  Mr.  Peirson's  many 
pictures  are  entirely  worthy. 

With  many  Illustrations  and  Decorations  by 
G.  Alden  Peirson 

Ornamental  i2mo.    Cloth  Bound,  $1.50 


The  Bowen-Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


"AN    ADMIRABLE    SOCIAL  STUDY " 

THE   FALL  OF 
THE  CURTAIN 

By  HAROLD   BEGBIE 


The  purpose  of  this  brilliant  story  of  modern  English 
life  is  to  show  that  a  human  being,  well  brought-up, 
carefully  trained  in  the  outward  observances  of  religion, 
with  a  keen  intellectual  perception  of  the  difference 
between  right  and  wrong,  may  still  not  have  goodness, 
and  that  ambition  may  easily  become  the  dominating 
force  in  such  a  character.  So  the  book  may  be  called  a 
purpose  novel,  but  in  reading  it,  one  no  more  thinks  of 
applying  so  discredited  an  epithet  to  it  than  one  would 
think  of  applying  it  to  "Vanity  Fair." 

The  author  possesses  an  admirable  style,  clear, 
unaffected,  strong.  To  the  discriminating  public,  the 
book  is  certain  to  give  far  more  pleasure  than  that  public 
usually  gets  from  a  new  novel, 

With  a  Frontispiece  by  C.  Allan  Gilbert 

Cloth,    12   mo.      Ornamental,   $1.25    Net, 
Postage,  12  Cents 


The  Bowen-Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


FULL  of  INCIDENT,  ACTION  fef  COLOR 

LIKE 
ANOTHER  HELEN 

By  GEORGE  HORTON 


Mr.  Horton's  powerful  romance  stands  in  a  new  field  and 
brings  an  almost  unknown  world  in  reality  before  the  reader  — 
the  world  of  conflict  between  Greek  and  Turk. 

The  island  of  Crete  seems  real  and  genuine  after  reading 
this  book;  not  a  mere  spot  on  the  map.  The  tragic  and 
pathetic  troubles  of  this  people  are  told  with  sympathetic  force. 

Mr.  Horton  employs  a  vivid  style  that  keeps  the  interest 
alive  and  many  passages  are  filled  with  delicate  poetic  feeling. 

Things  happen  and  the  story  moves.  The  characters  are 
well  conceived  and  are  human  and  convincing.  Beyond  ques- 
tion Mr.  Horton's  fine  story  is  destined  to  take  high  rank  among 
the  books  of  the  day. 

With  illustrations  by  C.  M.  Relyea 

I  zmo,  Cloth  bound 

Price,  $  1. 50 

The  Chicago  Times-Herald  says  ; 

tf  Here  are  chapters  that  are  Stephen  Crane  plus  sympathy; 
chapters  of  illuminated  description  fragrant  with  the  at- 
mosphere of  art." 


The  Bowen- Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


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